Just an Affair
by ohtheconspiracy
Summary: Cameron has no idea how she got into this situation. One minute, they're at each other's throats. The next she's wrapped up in an affair with House. They say it's no strings attached, but what happens when she wants more? In progress
1. The Beginning

Alison Cameron had no idea how this affair had begun.

She certainly hadn't planned for it to turn out this way, and she assumed that he hadn't either. She didn't even like the man.

Ok, that was a lie. She had a thing for him, she always had. She couldn't help it. There was no discernable reason for this strange attraction, considering the man was twice her age and treated her with more disrespect then she'd ever experienced in her entire life. Besides, on more then one occasion he had blatantly informed her that he did not have, nor would ever have, any feelings for her.

And yet here they were, hidden in a storage closet, quickly reassembling their wardrobes.

"What was that?" She mumbled after a minute of silence.

"Cameron, do you really need me to have 'the talk' with you? You're a doctor, after all. I assumed you would know what that was," He mumbled in his usual gruff voice, sliding his jacket on over his wrinkled t-shirt. She groaned, rolling her eyes.

"House, I know what that was, I mean…," She paused, choosing her words wisely.

"Where did that come from?" He stopped, reflecting for a moment.

It had all happened too fast. They'd been sitting in the conference room, attempting to diagnose their latest case. House scribbled their symptoms on the board as his team quickly attempted to put the pieces together.

House seemed to be egging them on, as though he already knew what the diagnosis was. After many futile guesses, Cameron finally picked the one he'd been hinting at. He smirked at his ducklings, shaking his head,

"It took you thirty minutes to guess this basic diagnosis, you morons. The patient could have died in that time." Chase sighed and Foreman glared at House.

"Well, maybe you could have told it to us instead of stringing us along this entire time," Foreman mumbled, gathering the files in his hands. House laughed at his anger.

"Yes, but then you wouldn't learn anything. Chase, go administer the antibiotic. He'll be fine in an hour. Then go do my clinic duties." With an arrogant humph, House limped haughtily out the door and into his office. Groaning, Chase made his way into the hall.

Foreman glanced at his watch briefly before shoving his files into his bag and heading for the door.

"I am officially off," He murmured in Cameron's general direction as he disappeared down the hallway. Cameron sighed, waving goodbye half-heartedly at where he had once stood. Of course she had to work the night shift.

She pulled out a file and began to scan it, but she couldn't help but feel House's eyes on her. Choosing to ignore him, however, she scribbled notes in the file. Her decision to ignore his gaze was unacceptable to him, so he began throwing his toy ball against the glass wall that separated his office from the conference room.

_Thump, thump, thump._

"Ignore him," she thought to herself as she flipped a page.

_Thump, thump, thump._

She couldn't focus with that irritating sound. Whipping around, she glared at her boss who sat coyly watching her from his office, throwing the ball against the glass. He threw it_ at _her, she knew. If the glass wasn't there she would have been hit. She glowered at him, finally mumbling,

"House. What do you want?" He glanced at her, cupping his ear and yelling,

"What? I can't hear you." Obviously a lie. She could hear him perfectly, and she knew from personal experience that he could hear everything in his office. He'd heard her tell Chase personal things before, which he did not hesitate to use against her. She cringed at the thought. Enough of this, she thought to herself, and turned back to her files.

_Thump, thump, thump._

"Gah," She shouted, quickly making her way over to his office. He smirked up at her as she stood in his doorway, a very angry look on her face.

"Can I help you, Doctor Cameron?" He asked seriously, as though he really had no idea why she was fuming in his office.

"What do you want?" She mumbled, agitated. He was always so immature, it was a wonder he had even become a doctor.

"Maybe I just wanted to spend time with you," he had a smirk on his face. She groaned, rolling her eyes.

"Unlike you, House, I actually do my work," She turned towards the door.

"So please, let me do my work."

She stopped the instant she felt the ball bounce roughly off the back of her head. House let out a short chuckle as it rolled across the ground, bumping into his desk.

"It slipped."

That was the final straw.

With one quick motion, she rushed back into the room and snatched up the ball, much to House's horror.

"What do you think you're doing?" He hissed, pulling himself out of his chair.

"You're a grown man, House, at least on the outside. Toys are for kids." She quickly made her way to his office door, heading down the hallway.

"So I'm giving this to a kid." She ignored the frantic squeak of shoes and cane from behind her as House quickly followed, trying to keep pace.

She was able to elude him for the moment, nurses and patients gaping at her as she jogged down the hallway. As she made her way to the elevator she could hear him yelling something about taking advantage of cripples and she couldn't help but smirk. She slammed the elevator call button three times, glancing around the corner to see his fast approach. Luckily, the doors of the elevator opened at that moment and she rushed in, slamming the close button.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she couldn't help but giggle at this situation. What on earth was she doing? She usually never allowed herself act this immature, this…

…This House-like.

For a moment she wondered if this had all been a part of one of his games, trying to get a reaction out of her. She doubted that, considering the look of shock and horror that had graced his face.

"Looks like I found a way to get to you," she mumbled, satisfied as the doors began to slide close.

That satisfaction vanished as a cane jammed its way in, forcing the door back open. She felt her heart drop at the look of anger in his eyes. _Not good._

She waited for him to chastise her, but he just silently got on next to her and allowed the door to close. She glanced at him, not saying a word. He was out of breath, courtesy of the little run she had just forced on him. He reached out slowly, extending his hand to her.

"Hand it over." He mumbled breathlessly. She ignored him, though, and instead reached forward to click the third floor.

"I told you. I'm taking this to Pediatrics." She nearly jumped back when he suddenly slammed his cane into the emergency stop button, causing the elevator to lurch.

"What are you doing?" She asked wide eyed, a feeling of nervousness setting in. Was he _that_ mad at her? It didn't seem like a big deal, and yet she almost felt a little frightened. But House would never hurt her.

Would he?

"Give it to me, Cameron." He mumbled, though his voice lost all anger. She wasn't sure, but he didn't seem nearly as threatening anymore. He seemed almost happy, or as close to happy as House could get. Probably excited over this turn of events in his little game.

"No." She reached forward to restart the elevator, but House blocked her with his cane.

"Yes."

"House, people might need this elevator. Patients could be dying..."

"Then I suggest you hand me the ball." She couldn't help but smile at this little game.

"Fine. Get it yourself," She mumbled as she held the ball above her head. As he reached out for it, she snatched his cane away. Without it, he was unable to maintain his balance long enough to reach for the ball. She felt her face flush as she realized how immature she was acting, but she couldn't stop herself. House had simply pushed her over the edge.

"Oh, well aren't we the mature one? Not only do you take advantage of cripples, but you disable them, as well." Now he was attempting to reach his cane and ball, which she kept from him. He was growing tired of this game, however, so he quickly jabbed her in the side.

Gasping, she dropped the cane to the ground, which he grabbed up eagerly. She held her side, a flash of anger in her eyes.

"That was cheating," she mumbled and he just smirked.

"Well, in most games I would get a handicap. That's my handicap." He took a step towards her now, and it suddenly hit her how strange this situation was. What on earth was she doing in this elevator, holding her boss' toy above her head and taunting him? This was not at all like her.

She began to lower her arm, almost feeling ashamed. He took advantage of this, pushing her against the elevator's wall and pinning the arm with the ball in it above her head.

"I will take that," He murmured, removing it from her hand. To her surprise, though, he didn't move after retrieving it. They sat like that for a moment, staring at each other and House contemplated this compromising situation he had found himself in. How he had managed to pin his young, naïve little employee to the wall of the elevator he had suddenly forgotten, but at that moment he lost all concern.

As the idea sparked in his mind, he could not help but smile. He could feel the pulse in Cameron's wrist increase. He knew the effect he was having on her. So he decided to take advantage of the situation.

Leaning in slowly, his lips found their way to hers. She struggled at first, shocked by his sudden actions. After a few seconds, however, her resolve weakened and her mind, which screamed at her to get out of this situation, faded away. Her free hand found its way to his neck, and she pulled him closer. He realized the opportunity he had found, and he used his free hand to quickly press the emergency button again.

The elevator lurched back to life, much to Cameron's disdain. She looked up at him, completely confused. What is he doing? What just happened? Oh lord, what have I just done? She felt her face grow hot as he stepped away, a smirk on his face as he tossed the ball in the air. She suddenly felt sick.

This had all been a part of his game. And he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. She'd _let _him have exactly what he wanted. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. It was all over.

The doors opened and, as he stepped off, she heard him casually say,

"Follow me."

Embarrassed, she trudged grudgingly behind her boss, her eyes on the ground. She waited in sad anticipation, knowing at any moment he would rant and rave about their encounter on the elevator. To her surprise, however, he found his way to an empty storage closet and pulled her in after him. Even more surprising, she let him.

And that is why she sat here now, confused and embarrassed as she and her boss attempted to clothe themselves.

He pulled himself up and offered her a hand, which she hesitantly took.

"House, this…" She murmured, but was interrupted as he responded emotionlessly with,

"Relax. It's just an affair."

------------

This is the intro to a Hameron story I had rolling in my head. I definitely intend to continue this (: So yes. Reviews would be greatly appreciated.


	2. The Routine

"You're avoiding me," he mumbled as he made his way into the conference room.

"Why would I be avoiding you?" She responded, refusing to lift her eyes from the file she suddenly found very interesting. Cameron clenched her fists beneath the table, willing her heart to slow its pace.

She _was_ avoiding him.

She had been ever since that horrific mistake they'd made in that storage closet the week before. Even now she couldn't will herself to go in there for supplies. The images and memories that flashed through her mind were too much for her, forcing her to walk to the other end of the hospital to retrieve what she needed. It was ridiculous.

"We can do it again, you know," House mumbled, a devilish smile crossing his face.

_Don't respond,_ she thought to herself. _Don't give him that power over you._

And yet she could not hide the rush of blood that filled her face, which only darkened as House laughed wickedly.

He opened his mouth to further antagonize her, but was stopped when Foreman clamored into the room.

"What's got your panties in a twist, homie?" He murmured as he turned to his white board, erasing the information from their previous patient.

"New case," Foreman began, but stopped as the air of gloom and doom hit him. He could literally feel the tension in the air.

"Are you guys alright?" He stammered, glancing at Cameron's bright red face.

"We're peachy, just planning our next secret rendezvous. Cameron prefers storage closets, but I'm leaning more towards an exam room. You know, to piss off Cuddy and all." He smirked at the even redder Cameron, but she refused to acknowledge him. With great effort, she managed an annoyed sigh.

Foreman rolled his eyes at what he assumed was just House being House.

"Can we focus on the case or what?" He mumbled, throwing the file on the table. Cameron let out the breath she didn't even realize she had been holding. _Foreman didn't believe him._ Maybe she wouldn't have to quit this job and go into hiding…

House just pouted, clearly not wanting to end Cameron's torment, but he couldn't stop himself once he saw the file.

The case was surprisingly interesting and, much to Cameron's relief, was able to hold his attention for the rest of the day. She had managed to avoid him by running off to the labs constantly and now it was finally time for her to get off. She knew that if she hurried she might be able to escape without having to speak to him. Gathering her things, she swung around, preparing to rush out the door.

The impact caused a slight _thud _as she slammed into him, knocking him to the ground.

"What the hell, Cameron," House growled from where he sat on the conference floor, his folders scattered throughout the room.

Crap.

"Sorry," she murmured, dropping to her knees to help gather the folders. He made no move to help her. He just watched her intently, smiling at the blush crawling across her face.

"Why the rush? Got a date?" He smirked as she shoved his folders into his hands.

"Good night, House," She stammered, pulling herself to her feet. She started to head out, but stopped when he grabbed her leg.

"You're really going to leave me sitting here?" He asked with a serious face.

"You'll be fine," She tried to shake his hand off her leg, ignoring the sudden warm feeling she felt on the skin beneath his hand. She remembered this exact feeling of warmth from that day in the storage closet…

_No. Stop that. Not now._

He shot her an uncharacteristically adorable puppy dog face and she had to fight a smile._ Stop letting him manipulate you. _The warm feeling was slowly spreading throughout her body.

"Come on, I don't even have my cane."

"Yes you do. It's right next to you." She growled in agitation as he picked his cane up and chucked it across the room.

"Liar. I see no cane." She could feel the warmth creeping up her arms, across her neck.

"Fine!" She accepted her defeat with an eye roll and an angry sigh as she offered him her hand. He took it happily, pulling himself up and standing before her.

Standing two inches before her, his face dangerously close to hers.

_Oh no. Step back, Alison. Step back. _The warm feeling was everywhere now and was growing hotter. Her eyes trailed to his lips, which were so close. Too close. She felt his hand slowly rest on her hip, pulling her even closer. Her brain kept telling her body to step away, to not touch him, but her body didn't seem to hear.

Despite herself, her hands now rested on his stomach, slowly unbuttoning a button. Her eyes traveled up to his, and her breath caught at the sight of his intensely deep blue eyes.

Eyes that never left hers.

In that moment, all of their bickering and embarrassments vanished. She was powerless to stop herself as her lips inched closer to his, closing the gap between them. His hand went up to her face, brushing back her hair as she kissed him. She felt the same heat and electricity she had felt in the storage closet, and she knew she'd lose control soon.

But they couldn't here. They were still standing in the conference room, glass walls showing them to any viewer who happened to walk by. She seemed to realize this first, as she was the one who pulled away. He looked at her, confusion quickly being replaced by annoyance at the abrupt and unsatisfying end. She leaned forward and whispered softly into his ear,

"Follow me."

The wicked smile returned to his face as she slipped out of the conference room. He limped quickly, swooping up his cane as he followed after her.

And thus began their routine.

An unspoken agreement was formed after that second time as they snuck out of one of the clinic's many exam rooms.

Cameron knew they would never work in a relationship. She hated to admit it, but she had given up her childish dreams of changing him. Besides, she couldn't even imagine the harassment and sideways glances she'd receive if word got out. She was not interested in causing that much drama.

And they both knew House had no interest in any real commitment to her. They both knew he would end up ruining it and it would end badly for the both of them. She would probably have to get a new job at a new hospital, and no one would treat them the same again.

So they didn't form a relationship.

They formed a routine.

During the day, they would go about their jobs as they usually do. Cameron would get lab results, House would play his game boy. House would be a jerk; Cameron would try to keep everyone from killing each other.

And Foreman and Chase never suspected a thing. They never saw the secretive glances the two would share or the way they would casually touch one another.

They hardly noticed when House would page _just_ Cameron. They hardly noticed just how long it took her to do simple errands for him. They hardly noticed the glow around her after she had finished these errands.

They did, however, notice the extra work House put on her. He loaded the majority of the work on her, forcing her to get histories, monitor patients, and sent her down to the lab constantly. He also began assigning her to do his clinic hours, much to Chase's delight.

They never realized that House would be waiting in an empty room for her down in the clinic.

And so they spent their days as if nothing had changed between them, as if their secret affair had never begun.

Their nights, however, were a completely different story.

--------

I just wanted to let you all know that you guys made my life (:

When I posted the first chapter, I pretty much assumed no one would actually read this story, so when I logged on the next day and saw 13 reviews I almost screamed!

Thank you so much for the reviews, especially the criticism. I appreciate it all very much and it motivates me to continue. Sorry for this short chapter, I was in a bit of a hurry.

The next one will be longer!


	3. The Banana

"Why do you own a shirt from Banana Republic?" Cameron inquired as she watched herself in the mirror of House's bathroom, admiring herself in his button down shirt and boxers, her long brown hair flowing freely down her shoulders.

"That's not mine. That's Wilson's," he replied a little too quickly from his bed.

"Ok, then why is Wilson's shirt in _your _dresser?" She raised her eyebrows suggestively, leaning out the door to throw him a suspicious look. He ignored her implication, quickly changing the subject,

"Come back to bed, Cameron," he groaned, covering his eyes with his arm. "We have seventy two hours until we have to go back to work. Why waste them chatting?" She couldn't stop the grin that danced across her face as she made her way back to his bed.

------

House woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. He moaned slightly, trying to get the gears in his mind to start up, refusing to open his eyes.

W_hy do I smell coffee? Ah man, I slept at the office again, didn't I? Perfect._

Suddenly he felt the ground around him shift, and he realized he was not in his office, but in fact lying on a bed that someone else had just climbed on top of. His left eye peaked open slightly, and he felt a strangely warm feeling in his chest when he realized it was Cameron, perched on the edge his bed with a cup of coffee in her hands. He pushed that unusual warmth aside, however, as he yawned and muttered,

"If I'd known coffee in bed would be included, I'd have started sleeping with you ages ago."

Cameron just rolled her eyes as he accepted the coffee she offered, and she watched him sip it eagerly. He always did love her coffee. They sat in silence.

"So what are you still doing here?" He asked suddenly, catching her off guard.

"O-oh. Sorry, I didn't-" She felt like an idiot. Usually, she would sneak out in the middle of the night. Granted, she did that so she could shower at her own place and they could come to work separately. Today was their day off, though, so she had just figured on staying here.

_Don't be stupid, Alison. He doesn't want you here._

She started to get up, but his hand caught her arm, pulling her back to him. He looked surprisingly angry at her.

"Where do you think you're going?" he growled, setting his coffee on the night stand.

"But you just said-"

"I asked why you were still here. It was a question, not an accusation. I wasn't telling you to leave, stupid." He muttered, agitated. She blushed.

"Sorry, I didn't know." Why was she being so compliant?

"Don't be so idiotic, Cameron," he murmured as he pulled himself off the bed, limping towards the bathroom. "I want you here."

Her heart skipped right as the bathroom door slammed shut.

--------

After his shower House found her sitting on his couch, flipping through his television channels.

"Your cable sucks," she remarked, bored with his television. "All you've got are sports and soap operas. Nothing good."

"Blasphemy," He murmured as he made his way to his kitchen, rummaging through the fridge.

"There's no food in there. I already checked." She suddenly felt a bottle being pressed against her shoulder, and she turned to accept it from him.

"Incorrect. I have beer."

"Beer isn't food, House."

"And here you go, blaspheming again!" He shouted, sinking into the couch next to her. She just shook her head, popping the cap off her bottle and taking a swig. An approving smile crossed his face at this, and he followed her actions.

They sat like this for a moment, an uncomfortable silence engulfing them. They weren't entirely sure how to act.

"So…," She began, hoping he would finish her sentence. He didn't, so her word faded uselessly into the silence.

She sighed angrily. _This was awkward_.

But what did she expect? The only interaction the two of them ever had was either at work, playing their separate roles in their secretive little play, or wordlessly attacking each other in some storage closet or back hallway.

They had never just sat down, trying to have a conversation.

She didn't know what to do. Opening her mouth, she couldn't help but sigh with relief as the phone's ringing stopped what would be her poor attempt at conversation.

House didn't move.

"House…?" she questioned, tilting her head slightly, "Aren't you going to answer the phone?" He sighed in annoyance.

"I have a guest, Cameron. That would be rude." She just scoffed.

"Since when do you care about being rude?" He tried to think of a witty retort, but he couldn't help but agree with her rhetorical question. Resigning, he reached over and plucked the phone from the hook, mumbling roughly,

"What?"

"Hey. I'm coming over in ten minutes with beer and pizza," Wilson's voice declared through the phone.

"No," House said, almost shouting. Cameron watched him, shocked.

"No?" Wilson asked, equally shocked.

"Don't come over right now." House mumbled, trying to recover, "I'm busy." His eyes traveled to Cameron.

"With what?" Wilson asked, completely confused. _What on Earth could he be busy with?_

"Two night special," House mumbled, smirking at Cameron. "Twice the hooker for only a day's pay!" Cameron just rolled her eyes.

"Seriously House, what are you doing?" Wilson said, tired of his games.

Cameron was about to get up when she felt the overwhelming need to sneeze. She struggled for a moment, trying to hold it in, until finally she let out a petite, though loud, sneeze.

House froze.

"….Did you just sneeze, House? Because if so, that was _very_ girlish. Unless, wait," He paused and House glared at Cameron, mouthing _Way to go._. Cameron just shrugged, wiping her nose.

"Do you really have a girl there?" Wilson asked, his voice dripping with disbelief.

"Why do you say that like its completely unbelievable?" House mumbled, actually a little offended. "You know how the women flock to me." His eyes once again found Cameron's.

After a moment of silence, Wilson finally said,

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in ten."

The line went dead.

"Crap."

------

There was a desperate scramble around House's apartment as Cameron tried to gather her clothes, trying to erase all signs she'd ever been there.

"We can't let him know I was here," Cameron shouted from his room. House sat on the couch, flipping through his channels absentmindedly.

"Is it really so horrifying?" He shouted to her, finally settling on a Spanish soap opera.

"_Oh Rodriquez and his affairs_…," He mumbled to himself as he tuned into the show.

She called back,

"Is what so horrifying?"

"The thought of him finding out," House mumbled, intently watching his telenovela.

"About… this." The sounds of scuffling stopped, and after what felt like hours Cameron reappeared in the living room, staring at him.

"Is that what you want?" She asked hesitantly, studying his face. He watched her with a serious, honest expression. Suddenly, however, it turned back into that typical, cruel smirk.

"Oh yes, and then we'll all go skipping on rainbows in search of unicorns!" He shouted, rolling his eyes. "Jeez, Cameron. It was a joke. You think I want him to know about _this_?" She stared at him for a minute, open mouthed. Regaining her composure, however, she managed to force a weak smile and a nod.

"You're right." She left before he could see the hurt in her eyes.

House sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

_What was that? _He had no way to explain that sudden, irrational thought._ 'Is it really so horrifying? The thought of him finding out about this?' _That had been an honest question. For a moment, he'd actually considered telling Wilson about their affair. That was a bad idea. Once you told someone, once you put it out there, it became real. He didn't like real.

He closed his eyes, remembering his nights with Cameron, remembering her head resting on his chest as she slept. He thought about her standing, looking amazing in his (yes, his. Not Wilson's) shirt and boxers. Her smile, her laugh. All of it. All of these things caused an unfamiliar warmth to creep into his chest, a mystery he did not even want to consider deciphering, for once in his life.

He was getting far too used to their nights together. They were changing him. He found himself wanting all of her to himself, and this realization led to an even more terrifying thought: he wanted someone to know it.

But he could never say that. No, those words would never pass those cursed lips of his. Instead, he would berate and ignore her, using her for only a few fleeting hours each night. He would even go so far as to say 'Why would I want him to know about this?'

_  
Well done, Greg. Well done._

He was torn from his self-loathing, however, as Cameron's voice cut in.

"I'm gonna go now, House." Her voice sounded distant.

_Tell her to stay._

"Make sure you lock the door behind you."

She turned without another word and quickly left his apartment. He just rubbed his forehead, sighing angrily.

_Well done._

-------

Ahhhh this chapter is a bit angsty (:

I'm not usually a big fan of angst, but I figured it was about time for House to do a little suffering too, considering what he puts Cameron through.

Besides, he'll redeem himself in the next chapter!


	4. The Romantic Comedy

Wilson arrived four minutes later to find an agitated House flipping furiously through his television channels.

"…House?" Wilson asked hesitantly, flinching at the glare House threw him.

"It's your fault, you know," House hissed at an incredibly confused Wilson.

"It usually is," he mumbled, dropping a six pack on the table and carrying two pizza boxes to the kitchen.

He had no idea what House was talking about.

As Wilson set the boxes down on the counter, he caught sight of something surprising.

"What is that?"

House turned slightly, not really interested in anything Wilson said. He couldn't keep his mind from roaming back to that angry brunette who had been here minutes before.

Subconsciously, his hand reached out to where she had sat, resting it on the pillow. It was already cool. It was like she'd never even been there.

"_That,_" Wilson shouted, now drawing House's eyes to where he pointed. House couldn't fight the grin-like smirk that covered his face at the sight:

Panties.  
Black ones, with red lace strings.  
Black ones that had apparently been tossed aside, forgotten on a lampshade.

This was pure gold.

"They're mine, Wilson." House responded with an insanely serious face.  
Wilson just gaped at them, shaking his head.

"You really had a girl over here?" The shock in his voice was agitating House.

"Why does that concept seem to blow your mind?" Wilson just continued to shake his head.

"Because you're… you. I can't think of anyone besides Stacy who would ever _willingly_ climb into bed with you," he paused, eyeing the panties again. Suddenly his eyes grew wide.

"..Except…"  
He didn't want to say it.

"Except who?" House asked, already knowing.  
He just wanted to hear him say it.

"Except Cameron!" He shouted, as the realization hit him. House tried to suppress the small trickle of glee in his eyes. Why was he so happy that Wilson figured it out? Well no, he wouldn't say happy.  
Maybe relieved.  
Excited.  
But not happy, never happy.

Unfortunately for his newfound not-happiness, Wilson let out a loud, disbelieving laugh. House just glared at him.

"You expect me to believe you slept with Cameron?" House studied his face, choosing his words carefully.

"Oh yes, she and I have been having a secret, steamy affair for weeks now," He mumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"We did it in your office the other day, actually." He smirked; satisfied with the knowledge that he'd just told Wilson the truth. It had been Cameron's idea, and House hadn't argued at all. He liked her uncharacteristic spontaneity.  
Wilson just rolled his eyes, groaning and sitting on the couch next to House.

"Yeah, I'm sure." House found himself chuckling as he snatched a beer from Wilson. He loved that he'd confessed their affair more than once and yet no ever believed him. He popped the cap off and drank it, and his mind again traveled to Cameron.

"So whose are they really, House?" House just ignored him, dragging his swig out for as long as he could. Wilson waited, but House refused to stop drinking. Wilson waited until he'd already drunken three fourths of the bottle before giving up with a sigh.

"Fine, don't tell me." House finished the bottle off, smirking at his victory.

They sat in silence.

"You know why I know they're not Cameron's?" Wilson chimed in suddenly. House glanced sideways at him, deciding whether or not to participate in this conversation. Clearly participation was not required, though, as Wilson continued,

"I know because you're sitting here with me, drinking a beer." House looked at him quizzically.

"Was that a haiku or something?" He murmured, not understanding Wilson's point. Wilson took another swig with a thoughtful look in his eyes.

"What I'm saying is this: why would you hang out with me, when you could be with someone willing to sleep with you?" He finished off his beer and reached for another. He yanked his hand back in surprise, though, as House's cane slammed on the table inches away from his fingers.

"Hey!" He shouted, pulling his hand to his chest.

"Get out," House barked, pulling himself from the couch and limping over to his phone.

"What?" House didn't respond, though, as he yanked up the phone and began dialing.

Confused, Wilson started towards the door, stopping to grab his beer, but thought it better to leave them when House shot him a death glare. The door of the apartment slammed shut just as House mumbled into the phone,

"Hello to you, too-"

------ -

Cameron was shocked when her caller ID read "House". She'd only just left his apartment, and she was internally debating over whether or not to answer.

She was pissed at him. She shouldn't be, she knew. This was House, after all. Could she expect anything less? But still, she hadn't expected him to drop her so willingly like he had.  
Her curiosity soon won out against her anger, though, as she answered it.

"Wow, it's not even dark yet," She said as her greeting, balancing the phone on her shoulder as she cleaned her kitchen absentmindedly.

"Hello to you, too, Cameron." Her gruff boss' voice echoed through the phone.

"What do you want, House?" She glanced at the clock, surprised to see it was only 1 p.m.  
He usually didn't call her until 10.

"I'm bored. Come do something with me," He replied, his tone surprising her. It almost sounded like he wanted to spend actual time with her, in the nonsexual sense… but then she thought about it and shook her head. _Yeah right._

"House, I'm not in the mood for _that_ right now. Besides, I'm mad at you," She was surprised when she blurted that out. The last part had slipped out unconsciously, so she tried to cover it by saying,

"I thought Wilson was with you."

"First off, it is physically impossible to not be in the mood for _that_, Cameron," He ranted in his know-it-all voice, "besides, I kicked him out."  
She paused, putting a dish down and taking the phone in her hand.

"Why would you do that?" She asked suspiciously.

"Well, he doesn't look nearly as hot in black and red," He murmured giddily. She was silent for a moment, not understanding. He smirked triumphantly a few moments later at her gasp of realization.

"My underwear! I was looking for those! Gah, I had to wear your boxers home!" He could literally hear her face getting red, which only made his smirk grow.

"Yes well I found them for you, or rather Wilson did." Cameron's heart dropped at this.

"Does he know?" She asked breathlessly.

"I told him all about our affair-" House began.

"House!"

"- but he refused to believe me. Something about me being too good for you, I don't know." Cameron rolled her eyes as she sighed in relief. _Close call._

"So come over." He said as more of a command than a request.

"No."

"No?"

"Yes, no."

"So that's a yes then?"

"What? No, as in no I won't come over."

"Why not?" House pouted.

"I'm still mad at you." This time she said it confidently. He sighed with annoyance.

"Well I think you need to get over that," he announced arrogantly.

"I'm hanging up now, House."

"Come on, it's not like you have anything better to do."

"Says you," she huffed angrily.

"Oh really? What could you possibly be doing that could be better than me?"

There was silence on the line for a moment, and House just smirked to himself. She looked around her apartment, trying to think of a plausible response. Her eyes fell to the movie section of the newspaper strewn carelessly across her side table.

"I'm going to see a movie, actually. That new romantic comedy," she said hesitantly, clearly having just made this decision.

"Oh right, because that's so much better than me," House scoffed in annoyance.

"Yeah, it is. You know what, House? It starts in thirty minutes so I have to-" she was cut off by the sound of his phone slamming.  
He'd hung up on her.

She just sighed, shaking her head. In her heart, she knew this affair would end soon.  
Badly.

--------

Much to her own surprise, Cameron found herself in line outside the movie theater buying a ticket. She hadn't really planned to go see it, but after reading the brief summary in the paper she realized it was better than sitting alone in her apartment, reacquainting herself with her good friends Ben and Jerry.

She paid the price and made her way inside, breezing by the food stand.  
She was not going to eat her feelings.

Climbing the stairs rapidly, she found a decent seat towards the back, right next to the aisle. She sighed as the lights dimmed and the previews began.  
_Stop_, she told herself as her mind wandered back to him. _Don't think about him.  
_He was a jerk and she knew she shouldn't devote any of her thoughts to him. It was just an affair, after all.

Just random, meaningless sex.

She was supposed to sneak out before his friends came over; they were supposed to keep it a secret. That's how affairs worked. No strings, no feelings.  
And yet she couldn't stop thinking about him.

She closed her eyes, trying to block him out.  
For goodness sakes, she was even hearing things!  
She could have sworn she heard his cane hitting the ground, and it was growing louder.  
She would have even sworn that she heard his mocking gasp.

"Oh my gosh! You're coming to see this movie, too?"

Oh no.  
Please, no.

Hesitantly, she opened her eyes to see a very familiar silhouette standing before her, that ever-so familiar cane tapping the ground incessantly.

Oh man.

"House, what are you doing here?" She mumbled in annoyance, running her hands through her hair.

"What are you talking about?" He motioned for her to get up and move a seat, but she ignored him, so he attempted to climb over her lap to the seat next to her. After a brief struggle, he plopped down victoriously in the seat, turning his eyes on her. She locked her eyes on the screen, ignoring his gaze.

"I've wanted to see this movie for ages," he mumbled as he popped a few pills in his mouth. She sighed angrily.

"Besides, you wouldn't come over, so I came to you."

There was something in his voice that made her turn to look at him.  
She stared into his eyes, now illuminated by the movie screen.  
For just a brief moment, she thought she saw something in them.  
Sadness, regret.  
The need for forgiveness.  
And then it was gone, and the arrogance was back.

"So, how about it? You, me, the movie theater's floor? " He shouted suggestively, causing people around them to turn and stare. Cameron felt her face growing red, so she turned back to the movie.

"Listen, I actually want to see the movie, so please just shut up." To her surprise, he did. The trailers ended and the movie began, and House actually sat silently watching the screen. No more suggestions of theater sex, no inappropriate comments.  
Just silently watching with her.

In fact, he even listened, or at least pretended to, when she would lean over and whisper something about the movie. She did it without thinking, just commented about a cute scene or a fact about the actor. She waited for his scoffing laugh, but it never came. He let her have this moment.

Much to her annoyance, she found herself slowly forgiving him. She knew him; she knew he would never apologize. Having a real, genuine conversation was not something he was capable of.  
So he didn't say "I'm sorry".

Instead, he nodded in response to her pointless comments. He allowed her to grab his hand during the sweet, sickeningly romantic moments. He even pretended to yawn once, stretching his arms above his head, only to have one fall casually around her shoulders.  
He even allowed her to lean her head gently against his chest, and he tightened his grip on her, rubbing her arm soothingly.

This was his apology.

----

So I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter, but oh well. It feels a little like a filler, you know? A transition chapter.  
But yeah. Sorry for the late update!  
I just started back at school and I have three projects all due on the same day, so free time isn't exactly a luxury.  
And thanks for all the reviews, guys (:  
It's motivation.  
AND thanks to those who gave me grammar and fact checks (:  
I'm a stickler for grammar, so I appreciate that! Plus I like to keep this as realistic as possible, fact-wise.  
BTW- everyone needs to go on you tube and look up "House valley girls".  
Seriously the funniest thing you'll ever see.  
Cameron: "Can I, like, subpoena a patient cause House, like, wants me to, like, lie to him to get him here."  
Cuddy: "Duh, than you need to, like, be totally, like, the liar."

Ahaha so good.


	5. The Stranger

Cameron was dead asleep, her soft breathing the only sound audible in the otherwise silent room. She was curled up to his chest, her arm draped carelessly over his shoulder. He sighed, glancing over her head at the bright, neon time on his alarm clock. It was 4:34 in the morning, and he couldn't bring himself to fall asleep.

"Cameron…," He murmured softly, seeing if she stirred. She continued to breathe silently, nothing changing. He couldn't get his mind off of the small, fragile girl lying beside him. How did he get himself into this?

No, what was he thinking? Stop it. There is no_ this._ It was just sex, nothing else. He was Gregory House, for goodness sake! He doesn't have feelings, he has witticisms. Still, he could not get his mind off this girl he seemed to share his bed with every night.

"Cameron." He tried to find the words he wanted to say, needed to say. He knew he would eventually blurt it out to her in an incredibly inappropriate way, so it seemed much wiser to say them now while she was unconscious. She could never know he had any real feelings for her. You know, if he actually had feelings.

Which he didn't.

Right?

That would ruin everything.

"I think I might…," He paused, assessing the situation. He didn't have to finish that sentence; he could let it hang in the air for all eternity. She would never know.

"…not hate you." That was all he could get out. It sounded silly, almost horrible, but for him that was everything. He hated everyone. Humanity in general bored and irritated him. This girl, with her optimism and affection, constantly contradicted him. He should hate her more than anyone else, considering how she foolishly put faith in other humans, actually expecting things to turn out alright in the end. She foolishly put faith in him.

It was disgusting.

And yet, he did not hate her.

When did that change? He sighed, ignoring the feeling of relief he felt now that that was out in the open. Even though she would never know how strongly he _did not_ hate her, it was nice to have that off his chest.

"I think I might not hate you, too." Her sudden words broke the silence that had engulfed him, and he held his breath.

This was no longer just an affair.

-----------

The clock had just struck 8:00 am that Saturday morning when Cameron heard it.

It was very faint, just a slight click coming from the front of his apartment. Her eyes flew open as a slow, swishing noise indicated her worst fears: someone had just come in the front door.

"Wilson…," She mumbled, horrified. House stirred at her words, groaning and pulling her into his arms.

"No. My name is Greg, but if that's what you're into-"

"No, House! Wilson…," she paused, realizing how loudly she was speaking. Her voice dropped to a whisper,

"Wilson is here in your apartment!" House's eyes flew open as realization set in.

They heard the door click shut and footsteps begin.

"What do we do?" She asked frantically, looking around his bedroom. Her clothes were scattered throughout the room. There was not enough time to get them, get dressed, and hide.

"You could always do this," House mumbled, turning to her and digging his hands under her torso.

"What are you-"She yelped suddenly as he yanked his arms up, effectively flipping her off the bed. She hit the ground with a thump and a silenced groan, mumbling,

"I will kill you for this!" There was some venom in her words, but he could hear a slight chuckle. The small bit of humor in her tone told him he would probably live to see this week's episode of _Prescription: Passion_.

Cameron had been wrapped snuggly in his sheets, so when she went flying off the bed she pulled the majority of them with her. House hadn't noticed the sudden coolness, however, as his eyes were fixed on the door in anticipation. He could hear the footsteps echoing through his apartment and at any moment Wilson would be walking in. He glanced at the foot of his bed and saw Cameron trying to wiggle her way under.

"House, are you here?" Wilson called as his footsteps grew louder.

"You need to hide now, stupid," He mumbled in a low, angry voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She barked back, finally giving up on climbing under the bed. With Wilson seconds away, she realized her best bet was to crouch as low as she could beside the bed and hope Wilson doesn't actually enter the bedroom. If he stood in the doorway, she'd be fine, but two steps in would show her wrapped up snuggly in the covers like a present. She could imagine House's response now. _Look what I got for you, Jimmy! Merry Christmas! _Oh lord. She needed to stay hidden.

Her sudden movement to the side of his bed jerked the remaining sheets wrapped around House, and he found himself being yanked into a sudden roll.

"Gah," he mumbled as he spun slightly on his bed. He stopped his roll and was able to balance himself on his side by using his right arm to hold his head up, his left arm naturally falling to his hip. He realized what a strangely suggestive pose he was in, but it was too late to change.

Wilson was already standing in the doorway, staring at him.

House looked at him for a moment, realizing the urgency of the situation. He needed to get rid of him fast, before he noticed the fairly feminine clothes strewn throughout the room or the very feminine doctor poorly hidden beside his bed.

"Hello…" House mumbled, trying to think of something cruel and witty to say.

"…stranger." _What was that?! He distinctly recalled ordering himself to say something cruel and witty! He wanted to get rid of Wilson, not invite him to join them!_

Wilson stood in the doorway, staring at his best friend sprawled out across his empty bed in a compromising position.

He just sighed and turned around, leaving the apartment.

Cameron waited until she heard the door click shut to burst into a fit of laughter.

"What… was… that?" She paused between each words, her laughter intense and out of control. House just groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. He couldn't think with this girl around.

He reached down and helped pull her back onto the bed, nuzzling his head into her

shoulder, acting almost like he was embarrassed. Cameron couldn't help but sympathize as she patted his back apologetically.

"You just made me look like an idiot, Cameron," House mumbled, and Cameron instantly recognized the suggestive tone of his voice.

"I think you owe me, considering this is your fault," He mumbled again.

"How is it my-" Her words were cut off, however, as he pulled her into a deep kiss.

She didn't bother to argue anymore, accepting this punishment happily. She made a mental note to make him embarrass himself more often.

--------------

So I'm gonna be honest… I've lost a lot of interest in this story.

This might possibly be the last chapter, idk :/

Might have more, depending on whether I get the urge to write this story, but my mind has already moved on to new concepts. I don't know, we'll see.


	6. The Seed of Suspicion

Cameron sat alone in the conference room, idly gazing over the day's newspaper. She'd just prepared the coffee and it sat waiting for the arrival of her team mates.

Cameron scratched her arm absentmindedly, but paused when she felt the material of her shirt. A small, knowing smile crossed her face as she tugged loosely at the too big button down shirt she wore.

House's button down shirt.

She'd worn it home from his place a while ago and had simply forgotten to return it. That seemed to be happening a lot between the two of them, forgetting things at each other's apartments. Cameron almost always wore one of his jackets home when she left and she had forgotten more than enough embarrassing clothes at his place.

She even had a spare toothbrush in House's bathroom, a toothbrush she'd snuck in a few weeks ago and coyly hid in his medicine cabinet. She couldn't help but smile as she remembered the day he'd discovered it.

Cameron had been lying on his bed, running her hands through her hair as she waited for him to return when he called out,

"You're not as sneaky as you think, Alison Cameron." She had just smiled and mumbled,

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Greg House." She saw a hand appear in the bathroom door holding the toothbrush between the thumb and pointer finger, as if it were something so disgusting he didn't dare touch it with all his fingers.

"This. Sneaking these things into my house, are we?" She had just laughed, rolling over.

"What makes you think it's mine?" He leaned out into the frame now, arching his eyebrows at her curiously.

"Well, it could be Wilson's, though I didn't know he was a fan of Hello Kitty." She laughed at the pink toothbrush in his hand, covered in little kitty heads. She'd bought it especially for his bathroom just to get on his nerves.

"I dunno, House. It is Wilson we're talking about." This time he laughed, as well, disappearing into the bathroom again.

The next time Cameron went into the bathroom the toothbrush was next to his in the holder, no longer hidden away in the cabinet.

Cameron laughed to herself now as she reflected on it as she sat in the conference room. She couldn't help but wonder what the toothbrush meant…

"Cameron," a voice called, bringing her back to the present day. She glanced next to her to see the grinning face of her Australian coworker.

"What are you laughing about?" he asked, a smile still on his face.

"What?" she murmured, pretending to not understand the question. That was one question she knew was better left unanswered.

"Nevermind," he replied as he moved to the coffee pot, greedily pouring himself a cup. Cameron glanced out the glass door, wondering where Foreman and House were.

Ok, mainly wondering where House was.

"So Cameron," he murmured as he sat down next to her. She glanced back down at the newspaper, not in the mood for small talk. She wanted to go back to her toothbrush thoughts…

"Hm?" was all she attempted as she continued to study the newspaper.

"I was just wondering if maybe you'd like to go out later tonight, you know, after work. Maybe get some coffee or something, I don't know," he rambled off, his eyes intently locked on her.

Oh jeez. Cameron was not in the mood today to deflect Chase's futile advances, but she didn't want to be full out rude, either.

"Um, no thank you, Chase," was all she could think of to say in that moment.

"Why not?" he asked, almost offended. What was wrong with him? I mean, come on. It's not like they'd never slept together before. He still remembered when she'd called him over, desperate and high. Sure, he should have said no, but she didn't seem upset about it later, so why bother? Chase had always secretly been hoping for a repeat.

"Because," she answered, though she wasn't sure how she was going to finish that statement. _Because I'm sleeping with House? _That wouldn't work. What was her excuse? She couldn't say she was seeing someone, could she? _Does House consider us a couple? _

_No, no. Don't be ridiculous. It's just an affair, you knew that going in. Besides, you don't __need__ to be dating someone to turn Chase down. You can just turn him down._

"Because I don't think so," she finally finished, unable to find any other excuse.

"Really? Is that all I get?" Chase murmured, his eyes still intently on her. Cameron realized he wasn't going to let it go and, under the intensity of his stare, she found herself blushing and utterly avoiding his eyes.

"Seriously, Cameron," Chase continued,

"Why are you acting like this?" She felt her face growing hotter as she stared intently at the newspaper, praying for him to move on. She didn't know what to say now to make him stop harassing her, but it turns out she didn't need to.

"Ow!" Chase exclaimed suddenly, clutching the back of his head where a certain rubber ball had just struck him.

"Sorry. It slipped." House's sarcastic voice called from where he stood at the entrance of the conference room. Cameron couldn't help but wonder how long he'd stood there, watching her desperately try to divert Chase's attention.

He moved forward smugly, picking the ball up and moving across the room. Cameron saw a hint of a smile appear on his face and, to her surprise, he threw a wink at her the moment Chase looked away.

"Jeez, House. Why did you just hurl that at me?" Chase whined, rubbing his head, the pain taking away all interest he had in harassing Cameron.

"Stop being a baby, wombat. Go talk to the patient or something. Get a history."

Chase stared at him in confusion before mumbling,

"We don't have a patient." House responded by tossing a new file in front of him, barking, "Now we do. It's a 20 year old female with stomach bleeding, hypertension, and hallucinations. Go get the history."

When Chase didn't budge, House shouted,

"Now!" causing an annoyed Chase to get up and storm out of the room. Cameron sat there for a moment, staring at House.

"…Thank you," she finally managed, though it really didn't matter.

He'd already turned and left the room.

------------

He found her a few hours later by the nurse's station. House glanced around quickly to make sure no nurses were in ear shot before he mumbled with just a hint of a smile,

"You're wearing my shirt." Cameron glanced up at him from where she'd been doing her filing and, without any expression in her face or voice, murmured,

"Oh really? Hmm. I hadn't noticed," it took all her strength to suppress the devious smile that was forming. House smirked openly, glancing down at her files as he mumbled,

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" he fought for a professional face, always aware that there were people around them.

"You know it drives me crazy when you wear my clothes, right?" Cameron knew he said it to get a reaction, but that didn't stop her from coughing in sudden surprise, her face growing bright red. House's smirk grew even bigger when he realized it had worked and he suddenly found himself reaching out super quickly and grabbing her hand, squeezing it gently.

Realization of his action hit him suddenly, though, and he pulled his hand back, his eyes wide with confusion. His eyes matched Cameron's perfectly as she gave him a sideways look, not entirely sure what to make of the moment. He had grabbed her hand in such a sweet, gentle way. It was almost endearing.

What the heck?

The shock disappeared into his usual arrogance as he mumbled,

"Listen, I've got clinic duty for the next hour." She stared at him in confusion, though thankful for the topic change. She didn't know what to make of the sudden subtle display of affection.

"Alright. And…?" He just sighed, as though he were a teacher who had to explain how to solve an equation for the tenth time.

"Which means," he began slowly, enunciating everything, "you have clinic duty for the next hour. I'll be in my office doing doctor stuff." He turned swiftly, limping past Chase on his way to his office. Cameron just rolled her eyes before shouting,

"Your game boy does not count as 'doctor stuff'."

----------

Chase did a double take.

He couldn't have--- did he just see what he thought he had? He'd been watching Cameron from across the room for awhile, his eyes locked on her suspiciously.

She'd been standing by a counter filling out paper work when House walked next to her. They'd chatted for a bit, which was completely normal, considering he was her boss and all.

And that's when Chase saw it. Cameron had started coughing when he did it. It was so subtle, just a slight movement as House reached forward and took her hand, squeezing it softly. And then his hand was back at his side; neither of their expressions had changed.

It was like it hadn't even happened.

But it had happened.

Chase had just seen it, he would swear to it. It had been so fast and it would have been missed by anyone not staring stalkerishly at them, but it had definitely occurred.

Chase reflected for a moment about that incident with them in the conference room when House had assaulted him with the ball. He'd assumed he had just been doing it to be a jerk, but was it possible?

Could he have been doing that to save Cameron?

To help her escape his onslaught of questions?

But what could it mean? Chase wasn't sure, but it didn't matter. The seed of suspicion had been planted, and he knew he needed to investigate.

------------

Ok so it's a funny thing—the minute I told myself "I am done with this story" I get an idea in my head of Chase getting super suspicious and then suddenly all these possible scenarios start popping up and I realize I may not be done with this story after all :o

So yeah.

I also have a Cadley story in my head I might write down, perhaps.


	7. The End?

The repetitive beep of his alarm tore Greg House from an otherwise peaceful sleep.

"_BEEP BEEP_," it rang, demanding his attention.

"Mff," House replied with annoyance, lacking enough energy to slam the snooze button.

"_BEEP BEEP_," it insisted, not satisfied with his response.

"Shut up," he barked now, burying his face beneath his blankets. He felt a body shift over him, leaning across to turn the alarm off.

"You can't talk an alarm clock down, House. That's not how it works," Cameron murmured, slipping back next to him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He shifted slightly, nuzzling his face into the space where her neck and torso joined. Cameron shivered involuntarily, finding the feel of his hot breath on her bare skin exhilarating this early in the morning. She shifted slightly, rolling him over so she was straddling him as she gently kissed his chest.

He sighed, stretching his arms above his head, fully waking up under her touches.

"_Again_? Have you no limits, woman?" he asked suspiciously, smirking down at the brunette. The teasing, lusty look she shot him affected him immediately and he pulled her up, their mouths locking instantly.

He absently glanced at the clock, murmuring quietly against her lips,

"We're going to be late to work." Cameron, her eyes closed as she began to place heated kisses down his neck, simply stated,

"Work can wait."

House couldn't agree more.

-----------------------------

Foreman and Chase sat alone in the conference room, Chase pretending to do crossword puzzles and Foreman flipping through a medical journal. Work had 'officially' started over forty minutes ago and yet their boss and coworker had yet to make an appearance.

Their boss was understandable, of course, considering he seemed to make it his personal objective in life to be as late as possible while not getting himself fired.

Cameron, on the other hand, was always a stickler for time, even arriving unnecessarily early for work. The fact that they were both missing, however, only seemed to add fuel to the gradually growing flame of notion building within Chase. Foreman, however, seemed blissfully unaware. Or, who knows? He probably just didn't care.

Chase glanced at the clock once more, now seeing another five minutes had passed, and decided grudgingly that perhaps it was time to give his coworker a call.

------------------------------------

Clothes were being shed as they tumbled about the bed, House pinning Cameron between the sheets.

"House," she moaned huskily into his ear, nipping at it. House felt a shiver run down his spine as he began to work faster, trying to remove the ridiculous clothing obstacles between them.

They worked together now, their layers of separation gone. His fingers laced with hers and his lips met her throat, her whimpers and gasps filling the air.

"I love you," she cried out suddenly.

House froze, much to Cameron's discontent. She tried to keep the pace going, her hands working their way through his hair as her lips found his forehead, his cheek, his lips. Still, he refused to move.

"Why did you-?" she asked breathlessly, trying desperately to cling to that amazing high she'd had not moments earlier.

"What did you say?" House's voice was steady, his breathing completely normal. Cameron sat back for a minute, trying to think. What had she said?

She tried to remember, her haze of lust having taken control of her mind. They'd been rolling about, attacking one another. She'd felt so unbelievable, everything was so perfect at that moment that she said- … she said-

Crap.

Cameron opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. How could she have let that slip? House pulled himself off of her, staring intently at her eyes. This was wrong, all of this was wrong. She wasn't supposed to use the 'l' word. This was just an affair, not a relationship. Throwing that word into the mix ruins everything.

They stared at each other in complete silence, unsure of how to respond, when Cameron's phone suddenly began to ring. Relieved to find an out from this awkward situation, Cameron pulled herself from the bed and over to her pants a few feet away. Digging through the pockets, she found her phone.

"Hello?"

"Where are you?" the familiar Australian's voice called. She sighed, running her hands through her hair.

"Hey, Chase. Sorry. I um…" she threw a glance at House, opting for a suggestion, but he stared blankly at a wall deep in thought. She just sighed, running her hands through her hair as a pathetic excuse came to mind.

"My car broke down. I didn't know what to do, so I called House. We'll be in in about ten minutes." House's gaze shifted towards her slightly before returning to the spot on the wall.

"….Oh…kay…," Chase murmured, drawing it out in suspicion. "We'll see you then, I suppose." With that he hung up.

The silence in the car on the way to work was agonizing. Cameron kept glancing at House in the rearview mirror, but his eyes were set on the road before them. He refused to even acknowledge her and his entire presence felt incredibly cold. The air was so thick with tension she doubted you could have even cut it with a knife. A saw, perhaps…

"House," she finally managed, no longer able to bear the tension.

"Don't, Cameron," he snapped in such a harsh tone she almost flinched. Was he angry at her?

"No, I just-"

"Forget it. You were just caught up in the moment. It's not like you meant it," he replied dryly, refusing to let her speak. _You didn't really mean it._ Obviously he'd known about her feelings for him; he'd always known. Having them confessed like that, though… He just couldn't handle it. This was a no strings attached affair; no emotions, just hormones. But no, she had to go and ruin it by muttering the forbidden word.

They continued on in silence, House having just fallen back into thought when he heard her whisper,

"I did mean it."

His eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly regained control as he glanced out the window with an air of boredom before mumbling,

"Well, don't expect it back."

He found himself feeling pure anger boiling within him. _How could she do this? _What they had was so perfect, everything had been so perfect. He'd found himself smiling regularly for the first time in who knows how long and he'd become dependent on the feel of her body around him. How could she destroy what they had with these, these... these emotions!? _How selfish of her_, he mused.

Cameron set her jaw, a sudden fury welling up within her. _How dare he!_ They had been together for months and yet here he was shirking at the thought of the word 'love'. Not that you could really call what they did as together, per se, but it had become all too real for her. She'd thought that they'd finally managed to make some progress together, and yet here he was retreating right back into his shell. _How selfish of him_, she seethed.

----------------------

Chase watched as House and Cameron filed into the conference room. Judging by the looks on their faces, he knew not to satisfy his curiosity and prod them with questions.

They looked positively homicidal.

"File," House demanded, extending a hand to Foreman. Foreman, caught off guard by the strange tone his boss was taking, hesitantly handed him the file. House scanned it briefly before mumbling,

"He has erythropoetic protoporphyria. I'll be in my office." And with that he stormed off, slamming the door behind him. The men watched in shock as he quickly closed the blinds, shutting them out.

Then all eyes turned to Cameron who sat in her seat at the table, tapping her fingers rapidly on the table top in frustration. She looked agitated at their stares, finally huffing a,

"What?" Foreman looked down instantly, not in the mood to deal with a pissed off Cameron. Chase, however, was a little more aggressive.

"What happened between you and House?" he asked suspiciously. Cameron's face began turning a slight hint of red from anger, as she was literally that mad, and Foreman decided this was the perfect time to disappear.

"I'll… go to the patient or something," he murmured, not that anyone was listening, and slipped out of the conference room's door. Cameron rolled her eyes at Chase before huffing,

"Nothing. Just him being himself." The way she seemed to spit the words out caught Chase off guard, as he was used to the reverent, awe-filled tone she typically took when speaking of House. So Chase simply nodded, dumbstruck, before returning to his crossword puzzle.

---------------------

Cameron waited until the other's had left before bursting into his office. He didn't glance up from where he sat at his desk, his feet propped up while he played away at his game boy.

"We need to talk," she started, closing the door behind her. House let out a short huff of a laugh before mumbling,

"Worst possible way to start a conversation, Cameron."

"Why are you mad at me?" she asked angrily, ignoring his sarcastic remark. He just rolled his eyes, refusing to look at her.

"Look, let's forget about it, alright? It never happened." He attempted to return to his video game, but she refused to let the topic drop.

"But it did happen, House! It did! It's out there and, honestly, I'm kind of glad I said it." She was a little surprised by her words and the relief they brought her, but she realized it was true. She was glad she'd said it. She'd wanted to say it for as long as she could remember. House's cold laugh quickly ripped all her relief away.

"Stop it, already. Your little school girl crush on me isn't lo..." he couldn't bring himself to say the word.

"Say it," she suddenly hissed in a low voice. "Can you not even say it?" He just rolled his eyes again, not at all in the mood for this discussion.

"This is just a game, stupid. It's always been _just_ a game. All you're doing is ruining my fun by bringing feelings into the equation…," he shook his head with a disappointed look on his face while she stared at him, jaw open. There was silence for a moment and he thought that maybe she'd left, but as he glanced up he saw she was still staring at him, her eyes boring into his.

"It's not just a game to me anymore." She struggled out, her gaze unwavering. House just shook his head, not at all surprised by her answer. He had just hoped it wouldn't come to this.

"That's too bad." The finality in his voice hit her hard and she had to take a step back, her balance wavering a bit. His eyes stared at her, completely devoid of any expression.

"So…what? It's over now?" Cameron asked slowly, studying House's eyes for any hint of emotion. There was none.

"You tell me." She sighed, the weight of everything finally crashing down on her. This whole messy affair had been fun for awhile, but this was just too much. She wanted more and she knew he'd never be able to give her that.

"Goodbye, House," she mumbled firmly, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

It hurt that after she'd finally had him after so much yearning she was here, walking away. He simply nodded, turning back to his desk. She stood in his office for a few more moments before turning and disappearing into the hallway. House waited until he heard the door close to let out the miserable sigh he'd been holding it.

And just like that, the affair was over.

---

So first post in quite a long time on this story; sorry about that. I went off searching for my muse and I think I've finally managed to catch her.

Oh no.  
I wonder what's going to happen?  
–totally knows what's going to happen-  
Next chapter will be up soon-ish.


	8. The Jealous Type

The tension could be felt throughout the room as they struggled through their newest case as a diagnosis that should have taken twenty minutes to make was now bordering two hours. Every suggestion Cameron made was shot down instantly and an argument would ensue incessantly until someone finally chimed in with a new idea, though it too would usually be shot down just as quickly. Neither Foreman nor Chase could figure out what on Earth had happened to cause such tension.

It had been like this all week.

House and Cameron had been constantly at each others throats ever since that first day the two of them stormed in here in a tizzy. Chase just sat there, watching the aggressive exchange between the two. It contrasted so greatly with how they'd been before, back when he had seen them hold hands.

_The time I __**might**__ have seen them hold hands_, he corrected himself. The more he saw these two bicker and snap, the more he doubted that that whole instance had even occurred. It seemed to him now that it had not been anything more than his eyes playing tricks on him. Surely there hadn't been anything going on between them, right?

"Hey, stop day dreaming and go get the patient's history!" House's voice snapped angrily, yanking Chase from his thoughts. Chase looked around, confused, as he realized that his two coworkers had already left. He turned back to House only to see he'd retreated into the safe haven of his office.

Leaping up from the table, Chase made his way out into the hallway where his eyes locked on Cameron's retreating figure. Something had clearly happened between her and House, something that was really upsetting her. Maybe now was the perfect time to investigate.

"Cameron," he called as he struggled to catch up with her. Cameron only quickened her pace, pretending to not hear him as she made her way to the elevator. She slammed the button hurriedly, praying the lift would arrive before he did.

It didn't.

"Hey," he breathed as he finally reached her side, panting slightly from the jog. She gave him a forced surprised look, an '_Oh, hey! I didn't see you there!'_ expression on her face.

"Hey, Chase. What's up?" she asked emotionlessly as her mind ventured back to her confrontation with House. He really was an intolerable creature.

"Are you busy tonight?" She glanced up at him in surprise, his sudden question yanking her from her House-hating musings.

"Why?" she asked seriously, unable to comprehend why he would care. He just laughed lightly, a grin breaking across his face.

"I wanted to take you out. We could get coffee or something." Seeing the skeptical look on her face, he quickly added,

"As friends, of course. You know, we can chat and catch up. I haven't spoken to you in a while." He seemed uncomfortable now by her expression towards him and he couldn't help but feel slight regret at having even asked.

Cameron just looked at him, unsure of what to say. It had been so long since she'd been on a date or even just spent time with a man that wasn't House. A 'date' to her was staying locked up in his apartment all day.

"So you want to go out for coffee?" she asked slowly, testing the waters. Maybe a date with someone else would be a good idea. Maybe it could get her mind off things, off _him_. The nervous look on his face dissipated into a smile as he nodded and said,

"Sure, I know this great café a few miles from here." She watched his face, so full of hope and innocent attraction. Chase was a sweet, clean-cut guy who would surely make any woman happy.

He just wasn't House.

The elevator arrived then and Cameron opened her mouth to politely turn him down when she caught sight of House standing in his office's doorway watching them with a giant smirk on his face. Cameron felt her face grow hot with anger and she forced a smile and a quick nod, mumbling,

"Sounds great. Meet me in the lobby after work." Chase looked shocked as the elevator opened and she rushed on. He finally managed as the door slid shut to say,

"See you then."

Chase turned back to an empty hallway.

------------------------------------

A pit set into his stomach as he watched the idiot flirt with her, and he felt a sudden urge to go beat him down with his cane.

How dare that little wombat talk to her? He made a mental note to himself to key the little Brit's car at some point in the very near future. The thought of how Chase would react to such a thing brought an evil smirk to House's face as he plotted out ways of torture.

It was than that their eyes met from across the hallway and he could instantly see the discomfort in Cameron's eyes. He just stared at her, his smirk still plastered on his face as he watched her fighting off the wombat's advances.

She looked away quickly and never looked back at him, her eyes locked on Chase and Chase alone. That got on House's nerves.

House watched her step into the elevator and he noted the beyond happy look Chase was wearing. Had she actually said yes to the little twit?

Finding this to be far too much, House turned and stormed down the hallway, a new plan rapidly forming in his mind.

-----------------------------------

He found her twenty minutes later in the lab.

"Big date tonight?" he murmured as he limped in and plopped down beside her in a blatant invasion of her personal space. She ignored him, however, as she studied the microscope.

"I think the patient might have lupus," she says in an even voice, refusing to take her eyes from the slide in front of her. Annoyed by her attempts to ignore him, he grabbed her rolling chair and spun her around to face him.

"Don't be an idiot. It's never lupus."

His eyes are locked on hers, though she refuses to meet them even with their faces mere inches apart. He can see the obvious anger in them as they study the ground, her teeth almost barring at him. The look of fury on her face thrills him and he reached out slowly, his hand ghosting to her knee. She shuffles weakly, trying to pull away from him, but he pulls her chair back to him and traps her knees between his legs.

"House," she breathes in a warning tone, still not meeting his intense gaze. House's face inches unbearably nearer and he can feel her quickening breath on his lips.

"Don't," she tries again, pleading now as her resistance was crumbling. He moved his hand lazily up her leg, slowly pushing her skirt up. Despite her efforts, her eyes flutter closed involuntarily as her breathing hitches and all House can think is _this is how it's supposed to be._

"Let's get out of here," he whispers gruffly, causing shivers to travel down her spine and he couldn't help but marvel at the goose bumps dotting her legs. Her only response was slight whimpers as their faces grew closer still and he watches her slowly, involuntarily, lick her lips. He moves his hand up even farther, causing her breathing to stop all together as her wall of defiance falls and with one swift motion her lips finally crash into his.

They attack each other hungrily and House couldn't believe he'd gone this long without a taste of her. Hands are grabbing anything and everything and she can feel his roughly tugging at her shirt until finally disappearing beneath it, having a go at her bra. That was the moment her brain finally caught up with her hormones and she realized what was going on.

She yanked herself from him and practically flew halfway across the room as she stumbled backwards, covering her mouth with a look of shock.

"No! No, stop! We're not… not again... I can't…," she rambled aimlessly, stumbling into a filing cabinet as she tried to put distance between them. House growled in agitation, not at all liking the path this had suddenly taken.

With a bit of effort from his aching leg, he pulled himself up and hobbled towards her, backing her into a corner. He could see her eyes flashing from her inner conflict as she struggled with her flight or fight response. He wanted fight.

He closed the distance quickly, cupping her face in his hands as she backed herself against the wall.

"House, please…," she whispered desperately, her eyes now meeting his for the first time. The sad look of surrender in her eyes would have broken his heart if he weren't so perversely satisfied by it. His lips touched hers hesitantly before meeting them again and again. He heard her sigh as she opened her mouth to him, inviting him to deepen the kiss. Her fingers laced in his hair and she couldn't help but whimper as he pushed his knee roughly between her legs, sending a shockwave coursing through her body.

He traced his hands along her waistband teasingly as he nipped his way down her throat, her sporadic heart rate egging him on. Finally growing impatient with his own teasing, House began to slide his hand beneath the waistband—

--only to have her catch his wrist and yank it away. He felt her hands pushing his chest away firmly, actually sending him back a step or two. He eyed her suspiciously, seeing that her face was flushed and she was having difficulty breathing, but her eyes bore a cold determination that told him this was over.

"Stop it, House. I can't…, I can't do this anymore."

And with that she turned, leaving him in the dark, empty lab. He just stood there for a moment, watching her leave, and he realized that he had never before felt as alone as he did right then.

--------------------------------

Chase found a flustered Cameron rushing aimlessly through the hospital corridors and he snagged her by the elbow as she rushes past.

"Hey, slow down there," he chirped cheerfully, though his smile dissolves into a frown when she jumps at his touch.

"Are you ok?" he asks hesitantly, seeing the jerking movements of her eyes.

"Hmm? Yeah, I'm fine." she says, her tone suggesting she's anything but. He decides not to press the subject, however, and instead asks,

"So are you ready? I figure we can take my car and we can come back for your car later. It can get pretty crowded in that part of town and it's a better bet to find one parking space than to find two…," he paused as he saw the blank look on her face at his words.

"For our coffee date, remember? We talked about it this morning, Cameron." He could see the empty expression on her face change to a look of grim realization and he again regretted having ever even asked her.

"Oh, right! Um, yeah that sounds good I guess." He studied her for a moment, waiting for her to make up an excuse as to why she couldn't come, but she just watched him with her blank, exhausted eyes. After a minute of waiting, he finally brought back his cheery smile as he said,

"Alright then. Let's go, shall we?"

Cameron just followed him blindly to the car, her heart and mind a million miles away.

------------------------

House stood on his balcony, watching them make their way to Chase's car.

This was simply unacceptable.

The very thought of that_ boy_ touching Cameron was enough to make House see red.

Not only was that intolerable, but House's overall reaction to it was truly horrendous.

The affair was over; he had basically ended it himself. There had been far too much dependency, too much at stake. He didn't do commitments, that was just who he was.

And yet the thought of her screaming Chase's name into the night in place of his own was making him burn with a white hot anger at a degree he didn't even know he could reach. The thought of Chase's hands on her, his lips grazing the now fading marks House had made, were haunting his subconscious and he knew there was no way he could handle this.

She was his toy to play with and House had no intention of sharing.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My favorite House is a jealous House ;)

R&R Por favor.


	9. The Loss of Control

Alison Cameron had no idea how she'd gotten herself into this situation.

One minute, she was sitting in the café, staring blankly at Chase as he rambled on about something unimportant. The next she found herself backed against his apartment door, his lips on hers while his hands struggled with the key in the lock. How had the situation escalated so far out of hand?  
_Regain control. Regain control.  
_The mantra sounded like a broken record in her mind as she felt the door fall back from behind her and she stumbled into the darkness.

It was House's fault, really. All troubles in her life she could now more or less bring back to House and that ridiculous, terrible, wonderful, stupid affair he'd dragged her into. I mean, if you can't blame him for this unwanted rebound, who could you blame?

Cameron was only vaguely aware of Chase's hands knotting in her hair and his lips finding her throat, as her mind was already lost in an incredibly recent memory.

It had all started in that lab. All she wanted was to get away for awhile, to escape her colleagues and her stupid, incessant boss. All she needed was some time alone to clear her head.

That's why she had to fight a cringe when that oh so smug voice murmured,

"Big date tonight?" She fought the urge to send him a glare, instead opting to stare down into a microscope on her desk. It wasn't until she actually spotted the solid white in the lens that she realized she hadn't yet put a slide on it. Not wanting to seem stupid, though, she remained in that position. Determined to hide her slight embarrassment, she mumbled,

"I think the patient might have lupus."

She felt an involuntary shiver run up her spine as he is suddenly next to her, pulling her chair around to face him, their faces far too close for her comfort.

"Don't be an idiot. It's never lupus." She suddenly finds the ground incredibly interesting, willing herself not to even grace him with a glance. She knows that once she sees those deep blue eyes she's finished, because there is simply no way she can resist that. She can't resist him.

And then his hand is sliding up her leg, and her eyes follow it on its slow path forward, and suddenly it's far too hot in here for them to be this close. She pushes the ground gently, wheeling her chair away from him, only for him to pull her back roughly.  
Great, now she's even closer to him than before.

"House," she mumbles. His face is so close to her, it would only take a slight movement…

"Don't." She says that more for herself than for him, chastising herself for even considering it. And then his hand is on her leg again, only now it was finding its way up her skirt, and she realized there was no getting out of this. Her eyes flutter close and she isn't sure if she's breathing or not, though it really doesn't matter because _he's_ here and it's exactly how she wants it to be, how she knows it's supposed to be. Breathing just isn't a priority anymore.

"Let's get out of here."

She isn't sure if he said it or if she did, but she can't fight the goose bumps that she knows are sprouting all over her body, and she can feel his breath on her lips and she knows what's coming. She's waiting, she's anticipating, but he's not moving forward, only moving his hand higher up her leg. This isn't enough, this isn't what she wants, and she knows her self-control has all but vanished.

She initiated the kiss, that much she knows for sure. She was the one who leaned in first, mercilessly nipping at his lip as her hands reach for anything they can get a hold of, and it's not long before his hands are all over her.

And suddenly she remembers his office, standing there while he dismissed her as if she were nothing. That's when she remembered that she was nothing but a game to him.

"No! No, stop! We're not… not again... I can't…," and she's stumbling aimlessly, barely aware of her surroundings. All that matters is getting as far away from him, that man with his terrible games and fantastic hands, and she finds herself backed into a corner as he comes at her. His hands are on her face and she can already feel her resolve crumbling as her eyes lock with his. Those beautiful, tormenting blue eyes.

"House, please…," she can't believe she's actually begging, that she's actually pleading with House to—to what?  
To let her go?  
To kiss her?  
She's not sure which one she wants more.

When his lips touched hers, though, she knew the decision was made and she couldn't help but sigh contently as things once more grew heated.

She's so lost in the kiss, so enthralled in his touch that she is hardly aware of the nagging thoughts tugging at her subconscious. The little thoughts that are fighting to enter her mind, creeping in through the lusty haze she's now desperately clinging to. Somehow, though, they force their way in. She can't stop the thoughts like _he's using you_ or this is_ exactly what he wants.  
_  
She closes her eyes, pulling him closer in an effort to force the negativity from her mind.

_You're just a game to him.  
_  
She can feel his hands tugging at her shirt and she uses her own to pull at his hair, pull him as close to her as physically possible.

He's testing you and you're failing.

He feels so good under her hands and she's shocked she was able to last this long without him.  
_  
The affair ended, but you still can't control yourself.  
_  
She can't help the whimper that escapes her lips when his knee forces itself between her legs, the sensation that rushes through her only a hint of what is to come.

_He wins._

That was the thought that did it.  
That was the thought that forced her over the edge.  
That was the moment she firmly pushed him away, finally regaining control of the situation.

"Stop it, House. I can't…, I can't do this anymore."

She ran blindly then, knowing that she needed to get away before she lost control.  
He always did manage to take her control away.

She was so lost in her own thoughts as she ran that she wasn't aware of Chase until he has a firm grip on her elbow. She shrinks away, fearing that House had somehow managed to catch her, before staring blankly at says something to her, but the ringing in her ears seems to drown out his words. It takes her a moment to realize just what he'd said, so she mumbled a quick,

"Yeah I'm fine." And then he's talking again and the ringing is back, and she's no longer standing in the lobby but back upstairs with House. She's struggling to stay in the here-and-now when she hears Chase mumble,

"…We talked about it this morning, Cameron."  
Oh no, she missed something.  
He's staring down at her now expectantly and he seems so worried that she hopes she didn't do anything wrong. What had they talked about this morning? She wracks her mind for a moment before she recalls the coffee plans and she mumbles a quick,

"Oh, right! Um, yeah that sounds good I guess." Coffee was definitely something she needed. He smiles brightly at her and she is able to delve back into her tumbling is dimly able to hear Chase says something else through the ringing in her ears, though it didn't seem to matter.

Cameron just follows him blindly to the car, her heart and mind a million miles away.

------------------------

The café had been a pretty quant place, though not one she'd consider visiting again. The coffee had a numbing effect on her, and she was thankful that it managed to ease the ringing in her ears and the thudding of her headache.

She eyed Chase hesitantly from across the table, a forced smile plastered on her face as he droned on and on. If he was aware of how miserable she was, he certainly didn't show it, and she was thankful to him for not being perceptive enough to know of her own private torture. She fights the sudden thought of_ House would be able to tell_ as she tries to be thankful for Chase's ignorance. She couldn't even imagine trying to explain her current situation, not that she would ever even consider talking to Chase about it.

Still, it was nice to be able to pretend to listen to someone else's story instead of focusing on her own twisted one.

Cameron's eyes fell to her coffee as she slowly stirred it with her spoon, watching the swirls take shape. She shot a glance up at Chase, only to find that he was no longer talking.

Crap.

Had he caught her zoning out on his little rant? Her worry faded, however, when she saw that he was simply staring at her, a small smile on his face.

"Do you want to get out of here?"  
She would later wish that she'd simply said no.

As they walked back to the parking lot and approached the Aussie's car, her internal alarms were blaring a giant warning at her to tell him to take her straight back to the hospital so she could go home _alone_.

She hung back a bit as he approached his car, her eyes following him. In the dark parking lot, he almost looks like House. She just shook her head, laughing at herself. Now she's even seeing House in Chase. But then, as she watches, Chase stumbles a bit on some broken cement, and in the dark his limping isn't from the stumble, but from an infarction.

And suddenly that blonde Australian isn't Chase.  
He's House.

He's that eternally annoying, utterly grumpy older doctor. That bright, loving smile is suddenly a dark, humorless smirk, and that tender look in his eyes is a sharp, mocking expression. Suddenly the man in front of her isn't her friend and colleague, but her former lover and current boss and even when he talks in that foreign accent, it's still House. It's still House's words saying,

"So I guess I'll take you back to the hospital then?" And she knows, deep down inside she knows, that there is nothing malicious at all in what he's saying. But in her exhausted mind it isn't Chase, it's House, and everything House says has a double meaning, and suddenly she can't leave. Suddenly she needs to prove that she's the one in control, that she isn't letting him string her along anymore.

So she kisses him.

She knows instantly that it isn't House, recognizes it in the way his mouth feels against hers. The man she kisses now is gentle and tender, his hands instinctively wrapping around her waist as he pulls her close. He's being too gentle and that's not what Cameron wants, because Cameron wants House, and House is never gentle, and so she shoves him roughly against his car, forcing him to deepen the kiss.

Chase is obviously surprised by her forcefulness, but he doesn't say anything, instead reveling in the way her body feels under his hands. He's never felt anything so right and he knows that she is the one for him, but to Cameron this is all wrong. Everything is all wrong because this man, with his perfectly shaved face and long, wispy hair, is not what she wants. She wants that familiar, scratchy stubble and the short hair that her hands always love to skim. She wants that but she knows now that she can't have it, that what she wants and what's good for her are two completely different things.

And that's why she shoves Chase towards the driver's side of his car before quickly sliding into the passenger seat. He looks at her expectantly, a little out of breath from her onslaught, and she stares at him and tries to separate him from the man she wants him to be. She knows she can't, though, and that's why her voice shakes slightly when she whispers,

"Your place."

---------------------------------------------------------

Alright, so maybe she _did _have a vague idea as to why she was now backed against a wall in Chase's flat, his hands hesitantly gliding their way around the hem of her shirt. Still, the ride over to his place had managed to clear her mind enough to realize that this was not the situation she had envisioned. Even now as his lips dance across her throat she compares him to House, especially since House had had her in this exact position not even an hour before. Her backed into a wall, his hands on her.

Exactly the same and yet it was so completely different.

House had been so forceful then, he'd come at her so strongly. He'd cornered her and it had both scared and thrilled her seeing him like that, that raw, jealous, possessive glint in his eyes. Comparing that now to Chase seemed almost unfair, and even though her back was once more against a wall, there was absolutely no forcefulness. Chase's touches were so sweet and placid, his fingers gingerly skimming her skin as he placed light kisses along her jaw. He was so careful, so considerate, and Cameron desperately wanted to enjoy this. She desperately wanted to love Chase, to love his gentle and caring nature. Why couldn't she love this? He clearly loved her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer against her as she tried to clear her mind. This was not the time to be thinking about her internal struggles. She was with Chase right now and there was no reason at all that she should think about anyone but him.

So why was it that when Chase whispers 'Cameron' into her ear, it's not him talking at all, but House? Why is it that she grabs his hand and laces their fingers together to prevent him from flipping on the light switch? Why is she so desperate to keep them in the dark, to keep his face from entering the light and her sight?

She doesn't want to admit it.  
She truly doesn't want to use him like this.  
She doesn't want to even acknowledge that the moment the lights are on it'll be over, because she knows that the face she sees in the light won't be the face she sees in her mind as her hands begin to undo his belt. Because it's not Chase she's imagining pulling her to his bedroom, and it's certainly not Chase that she roughly pushes onto the bed.

It is Chase, however, that she'll have to face in the morning.

------------------------------

Sorry for the sort of retelling of the last chapter, it's just that I wanted to give Cameron's POV of the lab incident. I actually kind of like this version more than the first.

And an extra big sorry for all the Chase Cameron nonsense! ):  
Even though I know a lot of you are going to hate this chapter, I kinda feel like it was one of my best.

It will get more Hameron, though, I promise!

If it's any reassurance, she obviously wasn't into it.


	10. The Theater of the Absurd

The ringing was back.

Cameron was struggling to ignore it, struggling to tear her thoughts from its dream-like haze and focus on reality, but her mind was already long gone. The weight above her shifted with annoyance, and she felt a small relief when it pulled away. Maybe it could hear the ringing, too.

She watched the shadow as it pulled itself from the bed, trudging through the dark room to the wardrobe that seemed to be the source of the insistent ringing. Cameron wondered briefly how he had managed to get there so quickly, how he had made it without limping at all. The ringing cut off suddenly.

Somewhere in the distance, hundreds of miles away, she can faintly hear him snap,

"Hello? What?" Oh. The ringing was a phone.

"_Now?_ Are you kidding me? House, we just—" his attempts to negotiate were cut off by the dial tone as his employer hung up on him. He sighed, turning back to Cameron.

She finally got a good look at him now, his face seemed almost distorted in the dancing shadows as the moonlight filtered in through his apartment's small, dust-coated window. Even in the darkness she could see the lighter tint of his long, now furiously tussled hair.

She could see the clear look of agitation on his face, and she took in his current state of undress. Somewhere along the way, apparently, he had lost his shirt. His jeans hung loosely around his waist with the button undone, the zipper still up. It would be safe to assume that she had done that, though she couldn't seem to recall when that had happened.

Cameron allowed her eyes to scan the unfamiliar room for the first time. It was moderately sized with sparse, impersonal decorations. It felt surreal, almost, being in this room. She was overcome with this feeling of suspension, as though she weren't lying in this bed at all, but floating above it, watching two strangers in a foreign place. How had she managed to get here? Her eyes traveled over herself, surprised to see that her shirt had been pushed up a ways and her jeans had been unbuttoned, as well. When had that occurred?

She watched from her ascended state as the man smiled weakly before mumbling,

"House says we have a new case."

And this simple statement tore her from her dream-floating and yanked her back into reality.

It wasn't some stranger in a room.

This was Chase.  
It was Chase that she'd gone home with, Chase she'd just been with on the bed.

_Not House._

Somehow, at some point during this whole excursion, her mind had convinced her that it was House above her, that the strange man standing by the bed was him.

A cold wave hit her then, as she remembered that no, it wasn't House.

It would probably never be House again.

"Okay," was all she could manage as she pulled herself up and headed out the door.

----------------------------------------------

The car ride was excruciatingly silent.

She could feel Chase's eyes drift over to her face every few moments, only to jerk back quickly to the road. He could sense it.

She was more sober minded now, now that they were out of the surreal apartment and speeding down the interstate. Her mind had cleared itself from her emotional miasma, and her actions from the night had left her feeling cold.

He could sense the wall she'd put between them. He wasn't sure what he'd done to create this emotional standoffishness, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was closing him out.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly and what was, in reality, a fifteen minute car trip felt like hours. It was almost a relief to see the bright lights of the hospital, and they remained silent as they parked and made their way into the building.

They were hit with a blast of warm air as they wandered into the ER entrance, their silence soon engulfed by the loud clamor and buzz of the hectic waiting room. Even at midnight this place was alive and hopping.

When they arrived, they found that Foreman was already there in the conference room with a cup of coffee in hand, fully dressed in scrubs. He was on call tonight, but House had demanded he come up here for the case. He was incredibly unhappy, mainly because House refused to tell him what the case was about or why it was necessary to start_ right _now. And, worst of all, the old jerk wasn't even in the conference room when Foreman arrived. It was down right infuriating, working with this man.

Foreman, whose mind was completely clouded by his own unhappiness, hardly even noticed as his two coworkers walked in briskly, taking their respective seats at the table without a word.

If he was aware of the fact that they'd arrived together, he never let on. The two sat down without sparing a glance at the other. Chase's eyes were on anything but her, while Cameron's seemed to have a distant, thoughtful look as she gazed at the wall.

Once the shuffling of seats died down the room was once more buried in a heavy silence as the fellows waited for their missing boss.

---------------------------------------------

He'd watched them enter from a hallway window. It was a strategic location, this particular window, as its angle and height allowed it an almost full view of the parking lot. He had used this window before to spy on others, on Cuddy and Wilson. It was the best place to watch.

It hadn't been difficult to guess where the wombat would park. The boy was a stickler to habit. He always wore a tie; he always ate at the same Chinese place every Saturday night. He always donated a small portion of his salary to a local charity at the end of the month.  
Always.

He was dependent on repetition, his shaky upbringing made him desperate for a sense of steadiness and order. He dreamed of a stable home, of a white picket fence and a two story house. He could just see it now: kids playing in the yard, a dog at the foot of the bed. A dinner in the oven every night.

All he wanted was a sense of normalcy and he had worked very hard to achieve it.

In other words, he was boring.

_What could she possibly see in him?_

House watched them as they stepped out of his car, watched as they trudged awkwardly towards the back entrance. He noted the gap between them, practically three feet of empty space. It wasn't difficult to see how they put in extra effort not to touch.

Touch.

House's blood was suddenly boiling.

Had that little twerp _touched _her?

The thought infuriated and sickened him and he had to physically shake the thoughts away.

He needed to go to the conference room eventually, after all.  
If he didn't calm down soon he might be forced to kill someone, and he already had a certain British national in mind…

---------------------------------------------

Two minutes later House arrived, breezing past the three without so much as a glance.

He tossed the folder on the table before taking a seat at a stool a few feet from the table, turning to watch the three carefully.

Cameron refused to meet his eyes, but the men simply took the file and began reading the symptoms aloud. They gave him a skeptical look as they continued to read, the case being fairly basic, but House demanded they explore every possible diagnosis.

House watched them carefully, his death-grip on his cane turning his knuckles white. He watched how they interacted, how they would react to the other's suggestion.

They were clearly uncomfortable, that much was obvious. Even Foreman could sense the discomfort between the two.

"Oh crap," Foreman mumbled as his eyes danced between the two of them. "You two aren't sleeping together again, are you?" His voice was agitated, exhausted. He was not going to put up with that revolting, cutesy little routine they had developed back when they were together.

Chase opened his mouth, but Cameron cut him off with a strong,

"Let's focus on the case, ok?" Her tone surprised them, and herself, and they hesitantly restarted their differential. She could feel House and Chase watching her, but she refused to acknowledge either of their stares as she pushed on.

-----------------------------------------------

The case was pathetically easy to diagnose. House knew it would be, of course. He had stolen the folder from some yuppie in the clinic and he hadn't even finished reading the second symptom on the list before figuring out what was wrong. The case wasn't supposed to be a challenge. It was supposed to be a distraction.

It had all started earlier that night, about twenty minutes after they left together.

He'd been pacing his office, thinking about_ them_.

He could see it in his mind: them at some idiotically basic coffee shop, making idiotically basic small talk. He could just see Chase, trying to comfort her without really knowing what was wrong. House severely doubted she would tell him about the affair.

He could see them walking to his car, Chase kissing her, it going too far. He could see them driving back to an apartment—

And that's when he decided he needed to get them a case.

Later on, when he would look back on this day, he would wonder how he had managed to time it so well. How he had known the perfect moment to dial, to interrupt them before...

"_Hello? What?" _

The agitation, the breathlessness. There was no doubt that he'd stopped something, no doubt that his fears were true. House had frozen for a split second, shocked and disgusted that _she _was with _him_. He recovered quickly, though, and did what came naturally to him: he lied. He told Chase they had a case and that it was vital they get here immediately. He hung up before he could argue. He had sat there, contemplating what he'd done and what they were doing, before making his way to the clinic to snatch a case.

And now they were here, the case closed after five minutes, getting ready to leave. Everyone was frustrated with him, angry at being dragged out for such a basic diagnosis. Cameron was suspicious, he could tell. She knew the reason for the late night diagnosis.

The air was thick with an underlying tension, and he studied them carefully and deliberately, watching their interactions.

He studied her, mostly.

Her hazy eyes, her exhausted frown.  
Her hair in a messy bun and it was easy to see that it had been mussed up recently. There was a thin line of smeared mascara beneath her left eye and her lips seemed slightly swollen. Chase was watching her, too, and he tried to catch her eye many times, flashing a smile when he finally did. Slowly, hesitantly, she returned it.

House felt another flash of heated anger.

He _really_ wanted to kill him.

------------------------------------------------------------

He was back at that window again.

They were below in the parking lot, that three foot gap gone as they walked practically shoulder to shoulder. He watched as they reached the midway point between their two cars, watched as they both stopped instinctively.

Chase turned to Cameron and House could just imagine what he was saying:  
_So, want to go back to my place?_

His stomach twisted and turned, his head ached. The very thought of her in _his_ bed was enough to make him puke.

The worst part of it all was that he knew she'd say yes  
Of course she'd say yes.

It was almost depressing, really, how obvious her choice would be. People are such fickle creatures, so easily swayed. Thinking back on their interactions from earlier that night (had it really only been today? It felt like months, years, even, since that had occurred) he had no doubt that she would gladly return to Chase's bed.

He would hold her like House never would. He would tell her kind words that House would never say. He would tell her he loved her. And she would soak it all up; revel in it, because that is what he assumed any other woman would do in this situation. He had always been able to read people, always been able to guess what they would do. He knew that she would say yes, he could just tell.

She would be just like everybody else.

She would no longer be that strangely attractive girl who kept him on his toes.

She would become a cliché.  
And, more importantly, she wouldn't interest him any longer.

And as he watched the two talk below, he almost felt a pang of loss at the thought. Still, he would move on. He is Greg House, after all.

He refocused on the two below, a sigh escaping as he watched Cameron. It was disappointing, though. He'd always thought she was a little more interesting than this.

He wanted to turn away, but his stubborn nature refused him the luxury. He needed to see this. He needed to know that it was over.

And then he saw it: the shake of the head. The look of disappointment. The slow, steady pace as they both walked off, headed towards separate cars.

She said no.

He couldn't help the puzzled, confused look that graced his face.

She'd said no.

He watched her as she pulled out of her spot, heading out onto the main road. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what he'd seen. She had just defied his predictions, done something he would have sworn she wouldn't.

For the first time in his life, House was pleased to be wrong.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Authors Note:

Alright guys, let's chat.  
I get that you are fairly upset with the decisions I made for the last that some of you didn't like that, but I'm not changing it. I know where I'm taking this story, I have three possible arcs planned out (the first starting with the last chapter), and this was necessary for where I wanted this story to go.

And in the big "Cameron would never" debate, I'm going with she might on the simple basis that she's human, and humanity by definition is destined to make mistakes. Everyone let's their guard down, everyone gets swept up in the moment.  
Sometimes it's small, sometimes it's massive.

At this point in the story, Cameron is incredibly emotionally unbalanced. Her affair with House has ended (yes, ended. Like, two chapters ago.), she is confused and fairly disoriented by his sudden power play, and she is more or less mentally _not there. _She is presented with an opportunity that, in her distorted sense of logic, seems like a way to regain control.

In that moment of weakness, she ironically loses all control and is put in a very compromising situation.  
Regrettable, but possible.

It may not be what you want, but it was a necessary stepping stone for the plans that I've laid ahead. I need you to trust me to take it down the path that I have planned. Who knows? It might be worth it. It might not, of course, but you won't know unless you stick around.

And one last thing for the record: at this point in the story, the affair has ended. That means that any activity outside of the two of them is not cheating. If anything, it's a rebound. You can't possibly tell me you've never heard of a girl sleeping with an ex after breaking up with someone else? Come on now. Plus, they never actually had sex in the last chapter. House's call interrupted before anything happened.

Besides, let's be honest about House. He's an arrogant ass. He thinks he can have whatever he wants, whenever he wants. He thinks he can have all the fun affair bits with Cameron without actually making any of the commitments, and he thinks he can completely string her along without giving any of himself. And that's just not going to cut it. How do you think he's going to react when he realizes that—wait, Cameron isn't going to just sit around at home crying and waiting for him to call her at three am for a booty call? When he sees that she has other options out there besides him, how will he react? How will he be when another man is creeping into his territory?

I guess you'll just have to wait and see.

Besides, a good story should induce the whole spectrum of emotions: happiness, sadness, excitement, fear…. An extreme hatred of the author to an almost homicidal level… and, well, seeing as I clearly achieved that last one with chapter nine, I'm thinking I just need to hit on all the other ones. Once I do that I'll have finally accomplished my goal with this story.

I just hope you'll stick with me to the end (:

And ha I love the fact that my author note is practically as long as this chapter and probably better written. Not my strongest chapter, but eh.

We all knew this would be a filler one, anyway.


	11. The Question

He could feel the man's glare on the back of his neck. Like little tendrils dancing across his collar, he felt the steady beam of hatred being blasted his way, sending a shiver of nerves down his spine. Chase gulped audibly, staring down at the table before him, desperate to pretend that House's glare wasn't as unnerving as it was.

Boy, was he bad at pretending.

"Do you have a case for us," Foreman suddenly chimed in, breaking the uncomfortable silence, "or are you just going to stare at Chase all day?"

House, who had been standing in the corner death-glaring at Chase, didn't even turn to acknowledge Foreman as he spoke,

"Forty year old male. Vomiting, fainting, rash, and nonstop coughing."

Foreman opened his mouth, as if to give his differential guess, but House cut him off with,

"_Chase_," he said the name like it was a curse word, "go run an MRI. And a tox screen. And go run the gauntlet of blood tests.

"And, hey, while you're at it why don't you test for some STDS? After all, I know for a fact you've had lots of experience with those."

Everyone dropped their jaws, staring at him in shock, and Chase's face turned a rosy shade of red. House smirked before adding,

"Tests, that is. You've had lots of experience running tests." Chase opened his mouth, only to close it again. House sighed in annoyance before shouting,

"Didn't you hear me? Scurry away, wombat!" Hesitating only a moment longer, Chase finally jumped up and left the room in a huff. Foreman watched with mild interest, his eyebrows raised questioningly.

"What was that all about?" he asked with a soft laugh. Cameron didn't say anything, instead just glaring at House. She knew _exactly_ what that was about.

"What? He's a big boy, I'm sure he can handle it himself. Why don't you go scuttle off to the clinic or something," he murmured to Foreman, who slowly got up with a roll of his eyes before exiting the room. Cameron sat stock-still at the table, refusing to face him. House watched her in silence, all too aware that this was the first time the two had been alone together since the end of their relationship.

_Affair,_ he corrected himself mentally. _An affair is not a relationship._

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, breaking the silence. She still refused to face him. He sighed, twirling his cane between his hands thoughtfully. Silence stretched over them before he finally spoke.

"Don't see him."

She breathed in slowly, deeply, before asking sharply,

"Why?"

Her tone was demanding, angry. How dare he demand such a thing from her?

He turned away, glancing out the glass wall into the bustling hallway.

"You're too good for him."

Cameron let out a short, angry laugh.

"Who should I see, then, hmm?" She sounded so tired, and for the first time that night he truly looked at her face. Her eyelids weighed down, and her concealer was thick over the bags under her eyes. Her hair was thrown in a slightly frazzled ponytail and her pupils were rimmed with red. Perhaps she was missing as much sleep as he was.

"Don't see him," he said again, his voice almost a whisper. His tone was almost pleading and, for just a brief second, she almost wanted to give in. But control returned and she shook her head, pushing herself up from the table.

"That's not your call to make, House."

He turned away, unable to watch her as she left him.

-------------------------------------------------------

She found him in the labs, actually running all the ridiculous and unnecessary tests House had ordered.

"Hey," she managed weakly, awkwardly.

"Hey stranger," he replied and she instantly grimaced. His words were an echo of House's, back from what felt like so long ago in her old lifetime of secret affairs and grumpy cripples. She pushed down the rush of nostalgia and nausea, however, as she approached him.

"So, need any help?" Chase smiled at her, a look of relief dancing across his face.

"Please. I don't know what is wrong with House, but I think he's trying to kill me with all this work." She knew what was wrong with House, but opted not to mention it. Taking a sample of blood, she moved over to the microscope to examine it.

The room fell into a comfortable silence.

"Cameron," Chase murmured after a few minutes, and she turned to meet his eyes.

"About the other night…" She groaned internally, absolutely loathing the idea of discussing that.

"Look, Chase--" she began, but was cut off by his interruption of,

"No, Cameron. Don't. Don't just dismiss it immediately, ok? Please, let me speak first." She fell silent, allowing him to say what he needed to say.

"I like you, Cameron. A lot. I have for a while now, actually," he moved over to her now, taking her hand.

"And I don't really know what to say about the other night, but… I just… I want to give us a try." She stared up at him, at his wide, pleading eyes. He was so earnest, so innocent.

He wasn't what she wanted. She wanted grumpy, misanthropic, dismissive. Not kind, caring, and attentive. Chase had a pretty face, sure, but there was no depth beneath the surface. There was no evil mastermind, no mysterious puzzle.

"I don't know, Chase," she managed weakly. He shook his head earnestly, saying,

"Look, why don't you just think about it? How about we have dinner tonight, we can talk about it? Please?" He was almost begging and she found herself in thought.

No, he certainly wasn't what she wanted, but he clearly wanted her. What she wanted had shunned her, had sent her away like a common whore. Chase wouldn't do that; Chase truly, deep down, wanted her.

And right now, Cameron needed to be wanted.

"Alright. How about we have dinner at my place tonight, say around nine?"  
His smile grew to a ridiculous size, so huge that she found herself smiling in return.

"It's a date," he supplied with a cheery laugh, squeezing her hand gently. She let out a soft chuckle as well. _You can do this, _she thought_. You can move on._

-----------------------------------------------

Wilson found him lurking around the lab, a permanent glower etched into his face. He stood silently beside him for a few minutes, following House's eyes to the source of his anger. He was glaring into the lab at Cameron and Chase as they worked together to finish all the tests.

"Why are we glaring at your ducklings?" he asked lightly, his eyes dancing from House's face to the two fellows.

"I assigned the tests to him for a reason," he spoke now to no one in particular, and Wilson knew to just silently listen, "it was a solo mission. Singular. Him alone. She shouldn't be helping him."

"Oh yes, it's a travesty, that girl helping him with his work," Wilson murmured, shaking his head mockingly. "Those heathens."

House turned, glaring at him bitterly, before fixing his gaze back on her. Wilson stared at him for a moment, a look of shock slowly creeping across his face.

"Are you_ pouting_?" Wilson asked incredulously, staring at him as if he was insane. House just crossed his arms, turning away.

"No," he said in a whiny voice, obviously pouting.

"Oh my… House, you're seriously pouting." Wilson was beyond bewildered. He'd never seen House like this before and he once more glanced through the glass wall at Cameron as she stared intently into a microscope, seemingly unaware of their presence a few yards away.

Wilson stood there silently for a moment, studying House's face before slowly murmuring,

"You really did have something with her, didn't you?" House didn't respond as he stood there, refusing to take his eyes from Cameron as she bent over the microscope. He felt his blood boil as he caught sight of Chase subtly peering at her curves as she innocently worked.

"It didn't work out," he all but growled as he watched the wombat with pure hatred, wanting nothing more than to go in their and rip him to shreds. A wave of territoriality hit him, his only thought being _only I get to look at her like that._ Wilson sighed knowingly, saying,

"And by that you mean you chased her away."

"I'd like to think we parted amicably," House supplied weakly, his eyes betraying him as they ran over her body as well, taking in the sight of her curves. For the briefest of moments, the thought of just barging in there and taking her, right there against the work desk in plain view of Chase and the entire hospital, crossed his mind. But his mind trailed back to that night two days ago, when he'd tried to take her in a lab.

Much to his own disgust, her rejection stung him in a way he'd never anticipated.

This was ridiculous, after all. He was the one who had broken them apart. She'd wanted more, and he wouldn't give it. House chose to end things, and sadly that meant no more of _her. _

No more late night calls, no more coffee in bed. He wasn't allowed to touch her anymore, which he felt sudden cravings for. And, worst of all, he couldn't fall asleep to the sound of her gentle breathing or the feel of her arms wrapped around him. Never in all his life had he ever needed someone else there in order to fall asleep.

Never.

House was an independent man; he didn't need someone to perform such a basic human function. And yet, since that night she had almost gone home with Chase, he had been completely unable to sleep. His bed was too cold now, too large for just him. A part of him had always been missing, a part he didn't even know he needed, and the moment Alison Cameron stepped in that piece was filled. The moment she stepped out, however, that part dissolved, leaving a hole so much larger than the original.

He wasn't going to sleep unless she was there, he knew, and that sudden dependency on someone else terrified him.

"Yeah, Wilson," he whispered suddenly before turning to limp down the hallway.

"I chased her away."

----------------------------------------------------------

Sleep wasn't coming; it was as simple as that.

He'd been in bed for hours now, tossing and turning, trying to find some sort of comfortable spot, but no matter what he attempted sleep never arrived. He had tried all his usual vices—he far exceeded a tolerable blood alcohol level, he'd taken some vicodin, he'd eaten some cold pizza from the fridge.

The old him would have been out by now, lost in some dreamless state of unconsciousness that he had always found easy to obtain, yet the new him couldn't seem to reach it. So instead of drifting off he lay there in his bed shifting about in search of relief.

Why was it so difficult to sleep? He had, after all, been doing it his entire life. House liked to think it was one of his strongest skills, one he could perform anywhere at anytime, and yet he still lay here, wide awake.

He sighed, grudgingly pulling himself out of bed and moving to slip a jacket on.

No use sitting around all night, he figured.

If he was going to be staying up all night, he figured, he might as well do it somewhere a little more entertaining.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
A/N  
Sorry for the late update.  
Life seems to love keeping me from writing; it gets a sick thrill out of it.  
Anyway, you'll be happy to know that I have most of the next chapter done in this story and I will be posting it soon.  
And by soon, I don't mean in a month.  
I mean like, tomorrow or the next day.

(:


	12. The Call

The soft knock at the door signaled his arrival, and Cameron hesitantly made her way over to let him in.

"Hey, I brought some wine," he chirped cheerfully as he walked past her and she smiled softly at the gesture.

"Great," she tried to sound excited, but her tone fell flat. Chase pretended not to notice.

_Stop it, Alison. Give him a shot, at least._

"So," she started as he emerged from her kitchen, a smile on his face.

"So how are you?" he asked, and there was genuine curiosity and concern in his voice.

"I've been worse," she managed with a small smile, moving to sit on the couch. Alright, this wasn't too terrible. She could do it. They can talk, become friends, and maybe she could open up her heart a bit to him. Slow and easy, that's what she needed right now. Maybe Chase could be that for her.

"Let's date," he chimed suddenly, and he was afraid she might get whiplash by how fast her head jerked at him.

"Chase, I don't think-" she tried, but he cut her off.

"Look, Cameron, I'm tired of beating around the bush. Come on, we work good together, and it's not like we've never_ been _together before."

_Why would he mention that, _she thought with agitation.

She sighed in agitation, before murmuring,

"And remember what happened last time, Chase? Remember how things ended?" Chase moved over to sit next to her on the couch, taking her hands in his.

"I screwed it up, Alison," she hid a cringe as he said the name _Alison._ She would much rather he call her Cameron, "but give me a second chance. Please, just one date."

"Just one date?" she asked hesitantly, eyeing him.

"One date. Give me a chance to show you how good we can be together." He smiled softly as he watched her resolve crumble before she finally nodded slowly.

"Alright. One date." Chase had to fight the urge to jump up and dance.

"So I was thinking-" he started, but was cut off instantly by the phone ringing. Cameron let out a small sigh as she moved to the phone.

"Hello?" she asked curiously, not recognizing the number.

"Hey, uh… is this Alison Cameron?" a gruff voice called through the phone, almost drowned out by the music that blared in the background.

"Er, yes, this is she." Her eyes flew to Chase, who watched her curiously as she spoke on the phone, silently mouthing 'who is it'. She shrugged to show that she had no idea who she was talking to.

"Yeah, so listen, I work at the Pom Pom club down on eighth street, and I've got this bum here whose had five drinks too many and he's starting to piss all the girls off. Anyway, he's got your card in his wallet and... Look, I had to take his keys away 'cause he is so far gone right now and he won't let me call him a cab."

She sighed, running her hands through her hair. The Pom Pom club was one of New Jersey's more notorious strip-joints. _Oh, well I wonder who that could be._

"Who did you say it was, again?" her tone was almost begging. _Not House. Not in the mood for House._

"Oh, right. I got his wallet here…Let's see..," there was a pause and she could faintly hear him rummaging through something, the pulsing music of the club playing as a background to his actions.

"His license says 'Greg House'. You know him?" Cameron heard another shout in the background and she now recognized a voice instantly as it shouted, "That's_ Doctor_ Greg House, dimwit!"

She could hear the slurring in his speak and it scared her. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him drunk many times before. Heck, he was almost always intoxicated in some way. But she had never in all her years of knowing him seen him get so drunk that it actually affected him in such an obvious, physical way. This terrified her.

"Yes, I do know a Greg House," she answered in a defeated tone, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. She tried not to notice the look of agitated disappointment that graced Chase's face as he heard that familiar name.

"So yeah, can you come get him now? He's outta cash and he's starting to cause trouble."

**  
**Cameron was already moving, grabbing her jacket and car keys as she slipped on some shoes.

"Sure, I'll be there in ten minutes." She hung up then, slipping her jacket on before finally having the courage to face Chase.

Chase just sat on her couch solemnly, his eyes locked on the floor.

"You're going to _him_, aren't you?" She sighed.

"Chase, he's raging drunk at a bar," she said, opting to leave out the part about the strip joint, "I'm just going to go pick him up and drop him off at his place. You can wait here if you want."

She secretly hoped he would leave. She was already feeling emotionally drained at the mere mention of House, and she had no doubt at all that by the time she did get back to her apartment tonight she would be in no mood to talk to anyone at all, let alone Chase. But Chase seemed so sad, so earnest, that she knew she couldn't just kick him out.

"It'll take me thirty minutes, tops."

He sighed, running his hands through his hair before glancing up at her with a forced smile.

"No... Yeah, it's fine. Go on, I'll be here waiting when you get back." His smile was sad now as he stared up at her, but she hardly noticed. Her mind was already running through how it would be when she saw House in his current state of inebriation and what sorts of trouble he would cause her.

Chase sat in silence as she scurried out the door, his eyes staring distantly at the wall, the silence breaking for just a moment as the door clicked shut behind her. She had begrudgingly agreed to go on a date with him only after his continual begging and pleading, and yet one call about House needing a ride sent her racing off into the night without a moment of hesitation.

That would never happen with Chase. Chase would never get drunk in the middle of the night, calling her for a ride. He would never treat her like scum, never demean her and ridicule her. He didn't want much in life, but he knew he wanted her.

He tried to convince himself that he could win her over, that in time she would lose this silly little crush she had on House and come to love him instead. He told himself to give her time, just a little more time and she would come around. He had almost convinced himself, too, for just a moment that maybe that twinkle in her eye could be for him and not for House.  
But really, he wasn't that naïve.

"No matter what, you're always going to go back to him, aren't you?" he whispered softly to the empty room.

There was no reply.  
The silence was answer enough.

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------- **

Cameron wandered into the gentlemen's club with a deer-in-headlights expression, her face gradually growing red at the provocative sights before her. The giant room was crowded and foggy, a layer of cigar smoke hovering just above her head. There were tables set up everywhere with drunken men getting drunker while barely clothed women pranced about, distributing beer and flirting. Towards the farthest wall she saw a cat walk with a giant pole, but she averted her eyes quickly from the woman on the pole.

_I am going to kill him_, she mused.

She needed to focus, find House, and get out of here. Subconsciously, she tightened her grip on her jacket to cover her more as she felt the leering eyes of men around her, and she found herself regretting even coming.

_Focus. Find House._

After a moment of searching, she finally caught sight of that familiar scowl from one of the tables towards the back, and she moved quickly over to his side.

"House," she started, and he turned to glance at her. He smiled as his eyes fell on the hazy outline of an angel, the smoke and strobe lights forming a flashing halo around her head as she glared down at him, and even in his drunken haze her eyes pierced into him.

"Now the party's started," he all but shouted as he jumped up suddenly and wrapped her in his arms, practically pulling her into his lap. She fought off the shivers that coursed through her as she pulled away.

"How much this time, hmm, Cameron?" he asked with a smirk as he stared at her lecherously. Cameron's jaw dropped.

"Get up," was all she could manage as she dragged him roughly from his seat and through the club.

"Cameronnn. Get on the table, do a twirl," House slurred, gripping onto her as she suddenly pushed him into a chair by the entrance, only to find that his grip on her arm caused her to step towards him, between his legs. His eyes flew wide in surprise and a slow grin formed as he took in her standing before him.

"Or a lap dance will do, for starters."

Cameron just sighed in annoyance, pulling out of his grip. Why was she putting up with this?

"Stay here, alright? I have to get your stuff from the bartender." He waved half-heartedly as she left, his eyes straying over to a girl sashaying across a table a few feet away.

Cameron approached the bar swiftly, pushing through the crowd with her eyes locked on the ground. She let out the breath she was holding as she approached the bar, finally free of the mob of drunken men and half-naked women.

"What can I getchya, miss?" The bartender asked, and Cameron recognized his voice from the phone.

"Nothing, I'm just here to get his wallet and keys," she explained, pointing over to House, who had escaped from his chair and was now grabbing onto a leggy brunette on stage. Cameron just sighed, shaking her head.

"Alison Cameron, right?" the barkeep asked as he moved over to a box filled with wallets and keys. Cameron nodded, murmuring a quick 'yep' and the man went to rummaging through the box.

"Excuse me," a voice called behind her, "but _you're_ Cameron?"

Cameron turned around only to have her blush turn an even deeper shade of red. Standing behind her was a tall brunette with long curls wearing boy cut underwear and what had to be an uncomfortably tight black vest that was already halfway unbuttoned, and nothing else. Cameron, after nervously giving her a once over, settled her eyes on her face and her piercing green eyes.

"Um, yes?" she replied, staring at the woman in a slow-setting shock. As strange as it was to admit it, the woman before her bore a striking resemblance to herself, if not a less clothed and more heavily make-up'd version. The woman nodded before sidling up to the bar, as if everything suddenly made sense. The man returned with House's wallet and keys, handing them to Cameron. He glanced between the two girls, a small smile on his face, before he mumbled,

"You guys are like twins, man. Hey, if you ever need a job," he said to Cameron with a leering smirk, "Apply here. Crowds always love twin acts." Contrary to popular belief, Cameron's face truly could turn a darker shade of red. The other woman just laughed, shaking her head.

"Leave'er alone, Pete. She's a _doctor._"

Cameron's eyebrows flew up in surprise at this announcement as she turned to the other woman.

"How… how did you know that?" The woman smiled softly before turning and leaning against the bar.

"See that guy over there? The guy I'm guessin' you're here to get?" she pointed over to House, who now sat dejected in a corner after having been pulled away from the stage by security. Cameron nodded.

"He's a regular of mine. He's been coming here for the last year or so, and whenever he does he always requests me." Cameron frowned, shaking her head. Even with the affair he came here, watching girls strip. _Unbelievable._

"It used to be a weekly sorta thing," she continued, oblivious to Cameron's frown, "but these last couple months he hasn't showed up at all. Tonight's the first time I've seen him in a while, actually." Cameron froze at her words, but she was unable to process their meaning.

"Anyway, he'd always order a private dance," Cameron suddenly wondered if she really wanted to hear this story, "and while I danced he'd always talk to me. He'd say stuff I didn't get, stuff about medicine and the hospital he works at, he'd talk to me like I'd been there or something. Correcting me and stuff, flirting.

"And the entire time, whenever he'd talk to me, he'd call me Cameron."

Cameron's jaw dropped and she turned to meet the woman's eyes. For the last year or so he'd been coming here, doing this, pretending this woman was her.

"He hasn't showed up in a while," the girl continued, oblivious to Cameron's gaping,  
"so I assumed he found himself a girlfriend, or that you and him finally got together or whatever, but I guess not since he's here."

The woman turned around, glancing at House at his far seat as he stared at his own hand, obviously finding it entertaining in some way.

Cameron just stared at House in silence from across the room and, as if sensing her stares, his eyes slowly rose to meet hers through the haze and smoke of the club. She turned away quickly, back to the stripper, before finally mumbling,

"I have to go."

She moved to walk away, but her look-alike grabbed her arm hesitantly.

"Hey, he's a jerk… but he's got a thing for you." Cameron just shook her head, no longer able to handle this, before turning away and heading towards House. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep; this was all too much for her to handle right now.

_Get House, go home._

She approached House swiftly, weaving between stumbling bodies, when a hefty, drunken man in a business suit stepped in front of her, grabbing her arm. He smiled down at her, revealing large tobacco-stained teeth.

"How much, pretty lady?" he slurred, wrapping an arm around her waist as he pulled her close. Whisky-scented air blasted her face as he sneered at her, and she tried to free herself from his grasp.

"I don't work here," she snapped, trying to free herself from his grip only to find it surprisingly strong. _Great, as if this night couldn't get any worse._

Normally, he would have been sensible and let her go, but the alcohol had erased all his inhibitions as he held onto her, murmuring,

"So does that make it free, then?" He grinned devilishly as his hand traveled low, groping her. She shoved at him, yelling fiercely,

"Get off me!"

He had his arms wrapped around her now, pinning her hands to her sides, and he seemed like he was leaning in for a kiss. She struggled against his grip, pulling her face away, and shouting all sorts of obscenities at him, trying to gain the attention of security. Security, however, was on the far side of the club, dealing with two men who had gotten into a fight.

All those around her were far too drunk to care or even notice.

The man ignored her and she glanced around for help, but all she saw were the backs of men surrounded by thick smoke, highlighted by flashing lights. She was trapped in the haze and trapped in the grip of the man and she felt like she was suffocating, drowning in air as she tried to free herself from his grip.

And then suddenly she could breathe again as the man was ripped away from her, flying backwards into a neighboring table. The room seemed to fall quiet in an instant as the table cracked in half, and everyone turned to see the fallen drunk and the fuming, panting man that had attacked him.

"No touching," House hissed in fury as he glared at the shocked, and now bleeding, man by his feet.

"She's _mine._"

His voice slurred ever so slightly as he stood there, looking down at the bloody-nosed man, before his eyes flew over to a shocked Cameron. They softened then, a clear sobriety sparkling for a moment as a small smile graced his lips before both the sobriety and the smile faded away.

"Come on, we're leaving," he announced in her direction before turning and limping off. A few people moved to help the dazed man up, and ever so slowly Cameron started moving, trotting after the fast moving cripple, his drunken words still ringing in her mind.

_She's mine._

She couldn't help but sigh.  
If she didn't have a headache before, she certainly had one now.

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A/N

I realized today that I wasn't going to be at home at all tomorrow, and I didn't want to break my promise for this update, so I sort of rushed. I hope it isn't terrible, though if it is go ahead and tell me.

Read and review, please.


	13. The Familiar Embrace

His apartment was trashed.

She struggled with the door as she entered, a pile of junk blocking their way. She couldn't comprehend how he had managed to take his moderately clean apartment and turn it into this disaster zone in only two days.

As Cameron pulled a slumping House inside, she couldn't help but gape at the empty bottles and take-out boxes that had been strewn carelessly throughout the living room. She pulled him towards the couch, trying not to stumble over the pile of dirty clothes and the smashed lamp that covered the path.

She fought back shivers as she went. On the way back from the club, it had started to rain and the ten minutes it took to pull a half-unconscious House out of her car and drag him into his apartment had resulted in both her and House being soaked to the core. Her jaw was quivering as she stumbled through his apartment.

It took considerable effort to drag House over to the couch and even more to drop him onto it. He let out a groan as he sprawled out, his groan intensifying as she clicked on the only non-broken lamp in the room.

"Turn it off," he whined, weakly shielding his eyes with his hand. Cameron just stared at him, shaking her head. He looked positively pitiful sitting there, drunk and soaking wet. Why does he do this to her? Why does he infuriate her to no end, go out and do something stupid like getting wasted at a strip joint, and then still manage to get her sympathy and attention by looking so pitiful? It wasn't fair.

His fingers slid apart for a moment, a single bloodshot eye peering out at her before he mumbled,

"Why are you here?"

Cameron just sighed, moving to where his feet were spread across the couch. She pulled off one of his shoes, placing it neatly on the ground.

"Because you got smashed and needed a ride."

She moved on to the last shoe, pulling it off with a soft grunt and placing it next to his other shoe. Cameron glanced up at his face again only to find that his fingers had slid back, covering his eyes from her view.

"I realize that, Cameron, but you didn't answer my question. Why are you here?"

She hesitated, realizing what he was asking. Why was she here, honestly? She moved to pull him up on the couch. He groaned as he was tugged into a sitting position, his head rolling back and his eyes closed. He could hardly move on his own.

"Because I'm a nice person, remember?" she all but snapped, reaching forcefully to slide his jacket down his limp arms. He didn't respond or acknowledge her actions and she assumed he had fallen asleep. _Good_, she thought. She was not in the mood for his probing questions right now. She just needed to get him in bed and get back to her apartment.

Once his jacket was off she stood back, scanning his sleeping form in an effort to determine if there was anything else she should do. A blush crept up slowly as she caught her eyes lingering on his chest, his abdominal muscles all too visible through his soaking, clinging shirt. She struggled to keep her eyes and mind off of his long, masculine neck and the stubble that sprouted across his chin. Even the soft scent of his cologne was hitting her now, potent even under the heavy scent of alcohol that engulfed the man.

Shaking the thoughts away, she dropped her eyes down to his jeans and realized with an even deeper blush that his soaked jeans would not be even slightly comfortable to sleep in. There was a war in her mind at what to do and she could just imagine a little devil and a little angel standing on her shoulders, whispering advice.

The metaphorical devil on her right shoulder was torn between suggestions like_ leave them, let the old jerk chafe_ and thoughts like _take his pants off- you know you want to._

Cameron shook her head, shaking out the darker side of her thoughts. She had always leaned more towards her caring side, after all. The rational angel side of her conscience, however, was not any more help with thoughts like _he's so helpless, you can't just leave him like that _and, strangely enough, thoughts like_ take his pants off- you know you want to._

She let out an agitated sigh. Why was her conscience ganging up on her? Either way, she knew that she couldn't just leave him in soaking wet clothes. He might get hypothermia, and what kind of doctor would she be if she left him like that? Taking a slow breath, she reached forward towards his belt, preparing to grab it, only to pull her hands back instantly, recoiling as if the belt were a snake.

_Oh, get a grip. It's not like you've never taken his pants off before._

At that thought she literally started shaking her head, determined to get the images that flooded her mind out.

_Now is not the time for that train of thought._

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, she finally reached forward and grasped his belt buckle, carefully sliding it open. Everything went smoothly and she soon had his belt off, but it was just as she started undoing the jeans' button that two hands gripped her wrists sudden, House's head shooting up as his eyes locked on hers. She let out a soft gasp, staring into his hazy and unfocused gaze. After a beat, the haze slowly dissolved and his eyes finally focused, his icy blues freezing her where she stood.

His eyes flickered away from hers to rest on their hands, a small smirk slowly emerging.

"Feeling frisky, are we?"

His voice was husky, coarse. Her blush darkened as she yanked her hands from his, jumping back from where she stood between his legs. For some reason she felt the need to smooth out her shirt, feeling subconscious and guilty. House smiled at her discomfort before leaning forward slowly, rubbing his face with his hands and letting out another groan.

"I feel like an elephant tap danced on my head."

His eyes traveled down to his waterlogged jeans, frowning.

"Why am I soaked?"

Cameron turned and walked away, turning her face to hide her blush.

"You jumped in a lake," she deadpanned. He scratched his head, glancing out the window at the torrent of rain outside the window.

"Or, here's a theory. Maybe I'm soaked because there is a tsunami barreling down on my apartment."

She didn't respond, waiting until she had regained her composure before she moved back to him, a determined look etched in her face. He smiled up at her, a toothy smile that he would never do when sober.

"So, care to explain why I caught you trying to violate me?"

She rolled her eyes, reaching forward and gripping the bottom of his shirt.

"I wasn't trying to violate you, you ass. I was trying to keep you from freezing to death." He stared at her curiously before holding his hands up, allowing her to peel his shirt off him.

"Of course, because all good Samaritans undress unconscious people. You're practically a saint."

He smirked as she groaned in agitation, shaking her head.

"Shut up and take your pants off," she ordered as she pulled him to his feet.

He fell against her immediately, far too weak to stand on his own. She tried to ignore the heat that rose to her cheeks by his proximity, instead focusing on undoing his jeans.

He leaned against her, his chin resting atop her head and his arms resting on her shoulders. He smiled as she tugged at his jeans. She was clearly embarrassed, which he enjoyed.

"Ohh, assertive Cameron. I kind of like this."

He would have sworn that she hissed at him then, which made him chuckle. He felt his jeans fall to the ground and he pulled back, staring down at her flushed face. It made him smile to know that standing in front of her in just boxers still made her blush.

"What now, Mother Teresa?" he whispered softly, wrapping his arms around her. She sighed slowly, violently, before murmuring,

"Now you go to bed and I go home."

He pouted, plopping back down on the couch.

"And you expect me to, what? Just walk back to my bedroom?"

She quirked an eyebrow at him, curious as to where he was going with this.

"You have two legs, don't you?"

He considered making an 'I-have-three-legs' remark but stopped, realizing that he wanted to convince her to come with him.

"I can hardly feel my feet, let alone move them. I need some assistance. Come, help the cripple, I know you want to," he said, shooting a puppy dog look her way. She sighed, shaking her head.

"Fine. I'll help you walk to your room, than I really got to go."

--------------------------------------------------

House was rather proud of himself as Cameron half-carried him into his bedroom. Even after all that happened she had still come back for him. Granted, it had taken him getting utterly smashed and losing most of the functionality of his lower limbs, but still. She came back, and that was all that mattered.

He felt himself falling forward as she all but tossed his boxer-clad self onto the bed and he found himself unable to even lift his head up to glance at her.

"There. Now go to sleep, I'm leaving."

_No, don't let her leave._

"You're really just gonna abandon me now, in my hour of need?" he asked in a mock whimpering tone, staring up at her from his bed.

She let out a harsh, scoffing laugh, shaking her head. His drunken mind pointed out how amazing she looked, wet hair resting on soaking clothes that clung in all the right places.

"This is not your hour of need, House. I mean, really, what were you thinking? Why on earth would you go out and drink so much?"

He growled in agitation, burying his face in the sheets. She looked amazing, alright, but the nagging was not something he wanted.

"I haven't slept in two days, Cameron. I thought the alcohol would help," he slurred before turning away from her and stretching out as she just sat there, frozen at the end of his bed.

House sighed into the sheets, listening to Cameron's soft breathing from where she sat on the bed. Gah, how pathetic was it that just the sound of her _breathing_ was soothing to him? He really needed to get some control of himself.

After a moment of silence, Cameron started to get up.

"I think it's time for me to go."

House's eyes flew open in alarm and he let out an inaudible growl as he turned towards her.

"Just…, hold on, will ya?" He was agitated, sleep-deprived. He needed to just curl up next to her and go to sleep.

"How about you just lay with me until I fall asleep, hmm? I promise I won't try anything." He looked up at her with hazy, innocent eyes, his lip pouting just a bit. She visibly fought back a smile.

"No."

He tried to not let the sting of her rejection show on his face.

"Why no?"

His voice dripped with subdued anger.

"Because I don't trust you."

Ouch, once more he hid the sting from his face.

"Cameron, its basic science. I need body heat... Just until I fall asleep. I won't touch you, scouts honor." He held up his hand in a mock salute and she just rolled her eyes. House studied her face, worry creeping in. Was she going to say no?

Apparently not, as a moment later she was crawling towards him on the bed, looking to his drunken eyes very much like a frightened kitten. _My little sex kitten_, he thought, a small, goofy smile gracing his face. He was so drunk.

House scooted over merrily, proud of himself for having gotten her into his bed once more. He watched as she stretched out beside him, lying in the exact same spot she had always slept in. He felt warmer just looking at her, just seeing her there beside him. Staring at her back, at the soft hair that cascaded over his pillows and sheets, he couldn't help but let out a soft sigh. This woman had too much of an effect on him.

After a few moments of staring at her stiff figure, he realized something needed to be done. He had felt a bit of his tension escape when she first laid down, the creak of the bed and the shift of the weight an old comfort that he desperately needed, but the tension in the room was far too intense for him to get any real rest.

After a moment of lying awkwardly, House finally dared to scoot an inch towards her. She didn't flinch away, which he thought was a good sign. Slowly, he moved a bit closer still. When she still didn't pull away, he finally turned himself on his side, pressing his chest to her back and wrapping his arm around her waist.

Now she flinched.

"What are you doing?" she hissed in a wispy voice.

"Look, I lost my body pillow," he supplied lamely, burying his face in her hair, "so you'll just have to do."

Cameron remained stiff in his arms, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that she was _in his arms. _He breathed in slowly, the soft fruity scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils. _Her shampoo_, he thought drunkenly. Her hair smelled like strawberries. He continued to inhale deeply, hungrily, shocked at how calming her scent was.

"What happened to scouts honor?" she whimpered.

He smirked into her hair, chuckling softly. Immediately after he felt goose bumps spring up on her arms, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. He resisted the urge to kiss her there, to scrape his teeth against her neckline. They were walking a thin line now, he knew. That might just push her over the edge.

"I never was a big fan of the boy scouts."

Gradually, he felt her soften a bit before slowly melting into him, relaxing against his chest. Internally, he danced a small victory dance. All his discomfort, all the anxiety that had kept him awake these last few days faded away when he heard her sigh lightly.

The continual throbbing that forever echoed throughout his leg seemed to quiet now as he rubbed his injured thigh against the back of her legs, the heat radiating from her body relaxing his infarction. House couldn't help but inhale again, his nose pressed to the back of her neck.

Gah, she felt so good. She smelled so good. Was this just a dream? If it was, he thought, then he never wished to wake up. He would happily stay forever in this inebriated state, her silky skin beneath his fingertips and her feminine scent in his breath.

His arm around her waist tightened protectively, possessively, and he was vaguely aware of her arm moving to cover his own. He started to fade into unconsciousness now, finally finding in her the key to his insomnia. A small flicker of consciousness kicked in for a moment when her arm started to move, but she surprised him by gently scraping her fingernails up and down his arm, effectively lulling him back down. House breathed in deeply one last time, his face nuzzled in her hair right behind her ear, and he took in that soft scent that he now craved. He snuggled up even closer to her, his consciousness seeping away, and in his first moments of sleep he muttered softly against her neck,

"_Alison."_

For the first time in two days Greg House drifted into a peaceful sleep, dreaming of strawberries and soft skin.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

She hadn't intended to stay long. Chase was waiting for her at her apartment, and House was far too drunk to be alone with. The minute she saw him at the bar she knew this wouldn't end well. She figured they wouldn't have even gotten into his apartment before he started groping her.

This was all so stupid, all of it. She shouldn't be in his bedroom now, she should be at home.

She stared at him as he lay motionlessly on the bed, breathing slow and painfully. Why had he gotten so drunk? Why was he so stupid sometimes? And better yet, what was she still doing here?

"There. Now go to sleep, I'm leaving," she murmured quickly, preparing to get up. Being around him like this, while he was so vulnerable was just… this was a bad idea.

"You're really just gonna abandon me now, in my hour of need?" he had murmured in a mocking tone, his eyes peeking up at her from beneath the sheets. She couldn't help but laugh at this circumstance, at his words. As if this was really some pivotal moment in his life.

"This is not your hour of need, House. I mean, really, what were you thinking? Why on earth would you go out and drink so much?"

A growl emanated from where he lay and he once more buried his face. She highly doubted that she was going to get an answer from him, so she was surprised when he murmured,

"I haven't slept in two days, Cameron. I thought the alcohol would help."

He turned away from her, but she couldn't move. She was frozen where she sat, staring at the back of his head. No matter how hard he tried, he hadn't been able to sleep in two days. He hadn't been able to sleep since they ended the affair. What did it mean?

Cameron heard him sigh softly into the sheets, her eyes drawing instantly to the rise and fall of his back. She felt at ease watching him. Gah, how pathetic was it that just watching him breathe could sooth her? She really needed to regain control of herself or she was destined to make a mistake.

This was too much, she realized, and she started to get up.

"I think it's time for me to go."**  
**

Gradually House's head turned to face her, locking her with a wide-eyed stare.

"Just…, hold on, will ya?" he asked, his voice filled with annoyance. Didn't he realize that she couldn't hold on, that just being near him was shaking her resolve? Probably, he always knew everything.

"How about you just lay with me until I fall asleep, hmm? I promise I won't try anything." He looked so innocent, his half-lidded eyes staring up at her, his hair in disarray. She could feel a smile tugging at her lips and she had to fight it down, shaking her head.

"No."

There, she said it. It was good to know that she could still say no to him. She needed to. She needed to go back to her apartment, back to her new life. This was complicating things.

His face showed no reaction to her words, just a blank stare.

"Why no?"

She hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

_Because I don't think I can handle this. _

_Because I don't want to open myself up to this again only for you to slam me down. _

_Because I don't trust myself alone with you.  
_

"Because I don't trust you."

Not a total lie, but certainly not the whole truth. House was an issue for her, an addiction. He demeaned her, degraded her, and disregarded her. He misused and abused her, and she knew she should want something better than that. But she didn't.

For whatever reason, she was hopelessly addicted to him. And even now, even after everything he put her through she knew she would struggle with denying him. She didn't trust herself enough around him and she didn't trust him to not try something that she knew for a fact she wouldn't be strong enough to resist. Truth be told, she didn't trust either one of them, and that scared her.

His eyes, constantly emotionless and unreadable, watched her carefully before a slow smile formed on his lips.

"Cameron, its basic science. I need body heat... Just until I fall asleep. I won't touch you, scouts honor." He held up his hand in a mock salute and she just rolled her eyes. She wanted to say no, but the look in his eyes made her pause. Underneath the sarcastic remarks and drunken slurs, she could see how genuinely exhausted he was. She was his last resort.

Sighing in resignation, Cameron slowly slid up the bed to the side she usually slept on. House moved aside, allowing her to return to the side she had slept on. She laid down, her body falling back into the natural grooves of the bed that had formed through the course of their relationship. It was shocking how amazing it felt just being there, in that familiar bed next to that familiar body. But at the same time, she knew that this was the last place she needed to be. Her internal alarms were raging, screaming 'DANGER DANGER' at the highest volume in her mind, and yet when his barely audible sigh reached her ear the sirens were silenced, drowned out by the soft sound of his contentment. This man had far too much of an effect on her.

She found herself lying stiffly on her side, facing away from him. No one moved at first, the air thick with unspoken words. Cameron was holding her breath and staring at the wall, furious at herself for even getting in the bed. This felt like a trap.

Cameron felt the shift of the bed as House scooted closer, then closer again. She should be stopping him. She should be telling him to back off, getting up, and storming out. Why wasn't she doing that?

And then she felt his presence, felt him wrapping around her body, engulfing her. She flinched.

"What are you doing?" she whispered angrily. This wasn't good, wasn't good at all. She could hear his breath so close to her ear, feel his warmth surrounding her. She could feel herself getting lost in his arms, and that was not good. This was definitely a trap.

"Look, I lost my body pillow," he whispered and she gasped softly as his face pressed against her neck, "So you'll just have to do."

She couldn't move, couldn't think. He was inhaling slowly, deeply, soaking her in and _oh_ it was wonderful. How long had it been since he'd held her, since he'd wrapped her in his arms? She tried to shake thoughts of him away, tried to think about everything he had done. _Think about Chase, sitting alone in your apartment. Waiting for you._

This was torture, pure torture, and she could feel tears prickling the corners of her eyes. She needed to be stronger, she needed to pull away, but how could she when his soft breath was echoing through her ear? _I am so weak._

"What happened to scouts honor?" she whispered, determined to hide the tears in her voice. Damn him. Damn him and his power over her, his ability to turn her to putty.

She felt his chuckle and it sent shockwaves through her body, bumps shooting up at the feeling. This was so unfair, how did she get herself into this situation? She knew that this was it. She was walking the high wire without a net, and House held scissors to her cable. One snip from him and she would fall, fall into the endless darkness.

She knew House; she knew what he would do. He would pull a move, kiss her, and it would be over. She would fall back into that one-sided affair, back to being nothing more than a body in his bed. The tears slipped from her eyes, falling silently down to the sheet. This was it.

"I never was a big fan of the boy scouts."

Cameron lay there, unsure and confused. That was… unexpected. She sat there in the silence, waiting for him to make a move, but he just lay there beside her, slowly breathing in and out. By the sounds of it, he was possibly already asleep.

Cameron let out a slow, soft sigh before relaxing in his arms, relief washing over her. He hadn't tried anything. Now the tears were flowing freely, a small smile forming on her face. He hadn't tried anything. Did he know how close she had been?

She needed to let this go.

His grip on her tightened and she reached out slowly, resting her arm over his. His arms were so strong around her, so secure. His grip on her was borderline possessive and for some reason that comforted her. She smiled tenderly, scraping her nails along his arm, scratching him softly. She would have sworn that he nuzzled her and whimpered.

_Jeez, he's like a puppy._

Cameron waited a few more moments, waiting until she was sure he was asleep. Just as she prepared herself to finally get up and escape, he said it.

"_Alison."_

It was barely there, just a whisper in her ear, but it caused her to catch her breath. House had never_, ever _called her by her first name before. Cameron laid there in silence, waiting to see if he'd say anything else, but she could already tell by the soft breathing by her ear that he was out.

Cameron found herself snuggling against him and she felt him snuggle even closer, his face buried in the hair on the back of her neck. The steady rush of air that struck her skin as he breathed in and out sent chills racing up and down her spine, and she pulled gently on his arm, trying to tighten his hold. Instinctively, he wrapped her in him even more, his leg wedging between hers. He covered her completely, engulfed her. His soft breathing and warm body soothed her and she felt this unusual sense of belonging here, in his arms. She glanced at his clock beside his bed, reading the time:

11:04

Her eyelashes danced as her eyelids drooped, and she swore to herself that she would only rest here for a few more minutes. Yawning softly, Cameron allowed herself to fade away into the warm darkness, the soft rush of air beneath her ear a lullaby that slowly sang her to sleep.

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I don't know where all the animal comparisons came from, although I have always pictured House as a puppy.  
Hmm.  
Did the split POV annoy you? I'm not sure how I feel about it.  
Anyway, I'm excited about the next chapter (or the one after that depending on how much I get done in the next chapter).  
I'm not going to tell you why exactly, but be anticipating a confrontation between House and Chase.  
A physical confrontation, that is (;  
Read and review, my loves!


	14. The Confrontation

A/N

Ahh! You got me, **arrrgylepirate**! You caught an inconsistency that I totally missed! You're right, it is illogical for Cameron to strip House but then leave on her wet clothes! Alright, I apologize for that inconsistency and ask that you all just pretend I said she stripped too, lol. Sorry. My bad ):

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7:36

Cameron stared at the clock in disbelief.

It was 7:36 in the morning, and she was still in House's apartment, still in his bed.

_Not good._

She needed to get out of here before he woke up and things got really complicated.

Inch by inch, Cameron started pulling herself towards the edge of the bed and away from the unconscious man, only to realize that House had her in a firm hold. His arms were wrapped around her, one of his hands gripping her wrist in sleep, the other holding tightly around her waist, his fingertips resting lightly on her bare skin.

She shivered at the contact before slowly reaching forward and peeling his hands off her. Trying not to dwell on how cold she felt without his touch, Cameron continued to move away from the slumbering doctor before finally sliding out from beneath the covers.

Shuffling on the tips of her toes, Cameron hurriedly gathered up her still-damp clothes and tossed them on, trying not to shake as the clammy clothes clung to her skin. She turned one last time to catch a glance at the now twitching House.

He was clawing out in front of him, scraping the empty bed in search of her body, and she would have sworn that he whimpered softly when he couldn't find her. A furrowed look of frustration graced his face and she wondered if the loss of her body heat would wake him up. Not wanting to stay around and find out, Cameron quickly snuck out of his bedroom and out his front door, locking it behind her.

-------------------------------------------------

House woke up two minutes after she escaped.

How could he not, what with the temperature suddenly dropping to unbearable? He had been so warm all night and now suddenly….

_Ahhhh._

His head was throbbing like crazy and he had to cover his eyes completely, trying to block out the light and the cold. The hangover was ripping his head to shreds and it took him a moment to regain the ability to think clearly.

What had he done last night?

Closing his eyes, he mentally reviewed everything he could remember from the day before. He'd gone to some strip joint and gotten wasted… he remembered Cameron, asking her to dance. Her in his apartment, in his bed…

Was it really her, though, or was it just a stripper? He couldn't remember; he didn't want to remember. The space next to him looked slept in. Perhaps it had been her.

For now he could just pretend it was her, if only to make this throbbing headache more bearable.

After swallowing three pills with a swig of whiskey, House went about getting ready for work. He tried to ignore the smell of strawberries that seemed to fill every crevice of his apartment, instead focusing on pulling his shirt on.

_Even this shirt smells like her_.

Glancing down, he grimaced when he realized that this was the same button down Cameron had worn to work once before. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. The smell was all over him.

Too weary to take it off, House trudged over to his bathroom, splashing water on his face. He held his hands over his eyes for a moment before slowly dragging them away, scrapping the water off. His eyes immediately fell down to his toothbrush holder, locking on that familiar Hello Kitty brush.

Why was she everywhere?

He growled at the brush, wishing it away. Could he not go three seconds without being constantly reminded of her? This was borderline ridiculous.

Caught up in a fit of righteous fury, House ripped the brush from its holder and moved to throw it in the garbage…. But nothing happened. He tried again, actually making the motion with his arm, but when it came down to it he couldn't let it go.

Sighing in resignation, he reached for the sink, turning on the water and holding the brush beneath it. He pushed just a bit of toothpaste onto it and stuck it in his mouth, slowly brushing his teeth.

When had he become so pathetic? Why couldn't he bring himself to throw a stupid little toothbrush away? He needed to stop this self-deprecation, but how could he?

The toothbrush tasted like her.

------------------------------------------------

The door clicked shut behind her as she slid into her apartment. She sighed heavily, leaning her head back against the door with a soft _thud._ Why was everything so complicated?

A soft rustling from within her apartment stopped all her thoughts as she gazed into the dark, seemingly deserted apartment. Creeping forward hesitantly, she made her way over to the couch only to be greeted by the sight of a figure sprawled beneath a blanket. She gasped slightly when a head of blonde hair popped up over the back of the couch, a confused, sleepy face staring up at her.

"Hey…," he drawled with a yawn, glancing around with heavy eyes at the morning sun streaming through the windows.

"Did you just get back?"

_Crap. He's still here. _  
How had she managed to forget about him?

"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes darting guiltily. Chase pulled himself into a sitting position, the heaviness of the situation now registering in his mind.

"Is it already morning?" he asked, his voice completely clear. He was fully awake now. Cameron only nodded in response, her face smothered in guilt. Chase, finally recalling all that had happened the night before, whispered angrily,

"So you were with _him_… all night."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. There was no question about it. Cameron ran a hand over her eyes, the weight and confusion of everything bearing down on her. All she wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep for a few months. She didn't want to be out here, having this conversation with Chase. She didn't want to be at work, facing the tension between her and House and having to fight the feelings that refuse to die away. How could she still love the man?! It was infuriating. After everything they had gone through, after everything he'd done…

And all it took, really, was a night like last night. All it took from him was a small show of vulnerability, a small display of affection. Just saying her first name turned her to putty, for goodness sakes! How could that man still have so much power over her?

So lost in her thoughts about House, she barely noticed that Chase had gotten up and was roughly shoving his jacket on, clearly mad.

"Chase," she started, reaching out to grab him, but he jerked away from her touch.

"Don't, Cameron. I've had it. I mean… Gah, you even smell like him!" Shaking his head in disgust, he stormed past her and towards the door.

"Look, Chase, I'm really confused right now and I just... can't handle this." She couldn't handle anything. Everything happening in her life right now was out of control, she was spiraling downward without anything to grab onto. Her emotions were overwhelming her, eating her alive.

Chase stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, his breath coming out heavily.

"I care about you, Cameron," he breathed, not turning around. "And I'll wait for you, really I will… But you need to decide who it is you want, because I can't wait forever."

He was out the door before she had the chance to reply.

---------------------------------------

Life was overwhelming, but at least work provided a distraction. Cameron spent the majority of her work day in the clinic, burning through all her week's hours. She was like a machine, polishing off case after case with such a rhythm and pace that the clinic was nearly empty by the time she left for lunch.

After trying so hard to keep her mind away from her ever present House issues, she couldn't help but laugh bitterly when House suddenly appeared, his eyes watching her curiously.

"Why weren't you there this morning?" he asked slowly, studying her face. Her expression didn't give anything away as she tried to breeze past him.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He grabbed her arm, trying to stop her from passing, or perhaps just trying to touch her.

She pulled away.

"I really can't handle this right now, House," she sighed, shaking her head. This was too much; everything was too much.

"I just need you to leave me alone."

"Just wait, ok?" House whispered, clinging to her. All he could think about was the feel of her in his arms, the soft scent of strawberries that filled his dreams. He'd screwed up when he let her walk out of his life.

He'd screwed up bad.

There was such sincerity in his voice, such unadulterated need, that Cameron couldn't help but look at him.

Her eyes flew up to meet his, their faces growing closer, their lips almost touching—

"She said leave, House," a sudden voice called from behind them, causing Cameron to jump and House to glare in annoyance and disgust. Chase stood a few feet away from the pair, his eyes fixated in anger on House.

"Chase," Cameron started, but House cut her off with a clipped,

"This is a private conversation. Get lost."

"She asked you to leave, House. Clearly she doesn't want you around," Chase continued, his voice teeming with petulance. Cameron could smell the trouble brewing as the two men prowled around each other like lions fighting for a carcass. She assumed, of course, that she was the carcass in this metaphor.

"Really? Because_ you_ know what she wants? That's funny, 'cause I'm pretty sure you weren't the one she spent the night with," House shot out, a blind shot in the dark, studying their reactions. The guilty look on Cameron's face and the beyond pissed look on Chase's told him that he was right: it had been her in his bed. This little tidbit of knowledge filled him with a strange, unfamiliar sense of warmth.

This tidbit, however, also pushed Chase over the edge as he suddenly shot his arm out, striking House across the face. House whirled around, grabbing his face in surprise.  
Boy, he was _really_ mad.

House rubbed his jaw thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes locked on Chase's, before whipping his cane out and stabbing him in the gut. Chase, completely caught off guard, bent over in pain. He clutched at his stomach, nostrils flaring, before jumping up and preparing to fight.

"Guys, stop!" Cameron cried, grabbing at Chase's arm in an effort to get between the two men before things escalated even farther. Chase, lost in the haze of fury and acting on pure instinct, threw forth the most powerful punch he could manage, not realizing that Cameron had situated herself in front of him before it was too late.

A loud crack and a gasp of surprise echoed throughout the hallway as Cameron flew backwards, twisting in the air before hitting the wall behind her. Both House and Chase gaped at her, their jaws dropped in shock and surprise, Chase by far the most shocked.

A beat passed and both men just stared at her as she slowly sunk to the ground, not moving at all.

"I… I didn't mean… I thought…" Chase stammered, a look of pure guilt and horror staining his face. House just stared at her, at the crumpled shape of the woman that lay in a heap on the linoleum tile.

And something inside of him snapped.

He was on Chase in an instant, his cane striking the man across the face. Chase reeled back, but caught himself long enough to throw a defensive block and punch. His fist glided across House's jaw, knocking him back slightly, but House was so lost in his rage that the hit barely even registered with him.

He forced Chase against the wall, holding the ends of his cane against the man's throat as he ground him into the solid structure. Chase gasped, scratching at the cane desperately, tinges of blue dotting his face as his frantic eyes swept the hall in search of aid.

The hallway was empty.  
There would be no help.

His panicked hands started clawing at House's face, scratching at him in an effort to force him back, but House didn't react at all. House wasn't even seeing him, really. All he could see was the crumpled form of Cameron in the hallway. He couldn't hear Chase's desperate wheezes for breath, all he could hear was the gasp of pain as_ his_ fist collided with _her_ face. He looked insane, his eyes narrowed and his teeth grinding. Nothing could get through to him, nothing could stop him, not until he made this _boy_ pay for what he did, and there would be no stopping him until-

"House," a soft voice called from behind him, breaking into the fog. Slowly, he turned his head to gaze behind him, never loosening his grip on the cane. Both men's eyes turned to see Cameron, now sitting up with her back to the wall, watching them through the fingers of her hands as she clutched her nose.

"Let him go."

House hesitated, shaking his head. The fog of hatred was fading and rational thought was returning to him, but still he fought it off_. Have to make him pay._

"_House_," she said it again, firmer this time, her eyes locked on the now blue man on the wall. Chase was watching her with wide, anxious eyes.

"Let him go."

After another moment of uncertainty, House finally stepped back, freeing the pinned man. Gasping desperately, Chase sunk to his knees, clutching his throat and coughing.

"Get out of here now," House commanded bitterly, glaring down at the man with pure hatred in his eyes, his chest heaving as he stood between his fallen Cameron and the Australian man. Chase glared up at him, clinging to his throat in pain.

"What, are you off your vicodin again?" Chase hissed as he pulled himself up from the floor and started backing away. House just glared and Chase, sparing one last look at Cameron, disappeared down the hallway.

House stared down at Cameron, who watched silently from her place against the wall, groaning as she covered her face with her hands. House thought about the last days, months even, of their time together. He recalled the need for her touch, the addiction to her movements and smells. Because really, that's what she was to him now.

An addiction, one that he couldn't seem to shake.

She had become his vicodin and oh, was he craving.

And there was nothing scarier in the world than an addict whose craving.

Sighing in resignation to this newfound discovery, House reached down to help her up.

"Come on; let's get out of the hallway before the nurses start gossiping."

She only moaned in response, her eyes still closed as she allowed him to pull her up and lead her away.

---------------------------------------

Cameron sat perched on the edge of House's desk, her eyes locked on his face as he slowly worked. House tried to ignore her stares as he moved to a first aid kit, grabbing some ointment and dabbing it onto his finger.

"What's the point in having lobby art if it's damaged?" he murmured as he gently spread the ointment over her nose, causing her to flinch in pain.

"I've always been damaged. Now it's just more obvious."  
He smirked slightly at the comment before grabbing a tissue and pressing it to her nose.

"Your nose will not stop bleeding. Seriously, are you that excited to see me?" he whispered as he moved to apply a bandage, spreading it across her bruised and bloody nose. This earned him a soft chuckle from Cameron.

"Well you know how it is," she tried, averting her eyes at the honesty. And he did know how it was, believe it. Just being near her….

Silence engulfed them then as they both mulled over their surprisingly similar thoughts before Cameron finally broke the silence.

"Why did you do that back there?" she asked, grabbing his hands to stop his movement. He froze, uncertain, staring back.

"Do what?" he inquired hesitantly, well aware of what she was asking. She gave him an agitated look before murmuring,

"Back there, when you tried to murder our coworker." That earned her a smile from House, who mumbled something like,

"I wasn't going to murder him…. Just damage him permanently…" He turned back to his work of cleaning the blood off her nose. A few beats passed.

"So?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow, her head tilted slightly. House just rolled his eyes and shrugged, as if he had no idea what she was blathering on about.

"You still haven't answered my question. So tell me, why did you do that?" He thought about that for a moment before finally saying,

"I don't think you'd like my answer." She laughed sarcastically.

"Let me guess—something like, 'I don't like people messing with my play things?' " she whispered bitterly, averting her eyes. He stopped working then, instead his fingers gently lifted her face until their eyes locked. Slowly, his thumb moved to skim her lips, tracing out the contours. Despite her effort to remain focused, her eyes slowly fluttered shut.

How pathetic could she get? She was practically purring under his touch, humming as his calloused fingers glided gently over her face.

She could feel his breath on her; her nose tingled at the proximity. The soft _whoosh_ of his inhale and exhale glided across her lips as he leaned in, their lips just barely grazing.

"Actually," he breathed out, she breathed in, "I was going to say that I did it because he spilled his stupid wombat blood on my favorite shirt." Cameron opened her eyes slowly, only to find that he'd pulled away and was watching her now with a soft smile.

She couldn't help but giggle at this, and he even let out a soft chuckle. They watched each other with humored eyes, both unaware that they were thinking the exact same thought simultaneously:

_  
I miss you._

--------------------------------------

Foreman walked into the conference room and glanced around, confused.

House stood by the white board, his lip cut and a bruise forming on his jaw. Cameron sat at the table, a bandage secured over her nose and bruising showing beneath it and across her face. Chase walked in, sitting down at the table without saying a word to any of them. He eyed him wearily, a black eye and a bruise in a straight line across his neck greeting Foreman.

Foreman blinked once, twice, staring at his coworkers who looked as though they had gone through the third World War.

"Alright, what the hell did I miss?"


End file.
